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BENEDICT ARNOLD 



A TRAGEDY, 

IN FIVE ACTS. 



B3T LTJOMO 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887, by 

J. H. CURRY, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



[ALL, RIGHTS RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR.] 



I 




LYNCHBURG: X^^Wasi- 
J. P. BELL & CO., PUBLISHERS. 

1887. 






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-?-. * 



TMP92-009003 



DEDICATION 



TO DR. W. R. L. SMITH, LYNCHBURG, VIRGINIA. 



As a bond for title to my gratitude, as a token of my appreci- 
ation of your sympathy with every endeavor of the humblest toilers 
in the strife, as a pledge of filial loyalty, I bring this little offer- 
ing, a few flowers from the gardens of historic lore and fancy's 
nursery. They are odorous with the breath of love, and moist 
with the dew of the heart. Press them between the leaves of your 
memory, and in after years may their mellowed fragrance breathe a 
benediction over your spirit as you recall the time you inspired 

a faint heart with hope. 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFATORY 



The surprise is sudden when we come to think : Why has not a 
thrilling Tragedy or Koraance been produced from the startling 
facts in the life of Benedict Arnold ? Surely there is no field more 
inviting ; for there have lived few men with lives so crowded with 
surprises, paradoxes, hopes, fears, successes, failures, as was the wild, 
strange life of Benedict Arnold. I have constructed this Drama out 
of the materials furnished from history mainly, and from tradition. 
"Sparks' Life of Washington and Treason of Arnold," " Irving' s 
Life of Washington," "George Canning Hill's Life of Arnold," I 
have examined critically ; and if I dissent from them in regard to 
Mrs. Arnold's part in the plot, it is because I have had other facts 
they have not recorded, and also from the natural conclusion of the 
aggregated facts of the complete transaction. In other words, I hold 
that Mrs. Arnold, nee Miss Shippen, was the chief inspirer of the 
dark and daring deed ; that she was the Lady Macbeth to urge him 
to the sticking point. She and her mother were tories ; her father 
was a colonial sympathizer. The story is based on the facts of 
the case as elicited from a multitude of witnesses who have been 
cross-examined closely. The opening scene is Arnold's arraignment 
before the Council at Philadelphia. Any one conversant with the 
facts will appreciate this proceeding or trial, especially any law- 
yer; for the exact relation between the civil and military authority 
was not definitely defined and the question of jurisdiction was a 
pertinent one then and would afford grounds of appeal or necessi- 
tate a motion to quash the bill of complaint. And this arraignment 
of Arnold was not only questionable on legal grounds, but it was 



6 PREFATORY. 

manifestly the outcome of envy and hate. However much or little 
he deserved such harsh treatment let the facts disclose. There are, 
of course, some anachronisms and a few characters brought on the 
scene with changed names, and blanks in the historic narrative have 
been supplied in this production to perfect the dramatic situation ; 
but the whole plot is real, and worked up from the facts, except 
the scene of Arnold's death, which, while traditional, bears the 
marks of genuineness. The idea of this work is to teach the 
doctrine of Eetribution. Whatsoever we sow that we reap, and 
violated law of body, mind or conscience, brings its own penalty ; 
and woe to him who lives for self, but honor and glory for him 
who lives sublimely in doing the right because it is right and not 
for the hope of reward. 



CAST. 



Gen. Keed — President of the Council at Philadelphia, before which 
charges against Gen. Arnold were preferred. 

Alexander Hamilton — Secretary of War. 

LaFayette, ] 

Putnam, 

Knox, [-Generals in the Army. 

Greene, | 

Gates, J 

BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Major Andre — British Army. 

Clinton — General in Command of British at New York. 

Maj. McHenry — Aid-de-camp to LaFayette. 

Capt. Wharton — Pros. Att'y before the Council. 

Morris — Arnold's Attorney. 

Shippen — Father of Arnold's wife and afterwards Chief Justice of 
Pennsylvania. 

Priest — Who officiated at Arnold's marriage and his death. 
Paulding, Van- Wert and Williams — Three Militiamen who 

captured Andre. 
Richard and Henry Arnold — Sons of Arnold by first wife. 
Miss Maggie Shippen — Afterwards Arnold's wife. 
Madame Shippen — Mother of Maggie Shippen. 
Miss Hattie Arnold — Only daughter of the marriage with Miss 

Shippen. 
Sir Stultus — A knave and jester. 

Soldiers, Guards, &c, &c. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



ACT I— Scene I. 



( Court-room in Philadelphia before the Council. Pres. and 
Judges on Bench. Attorneys and Spectators present. 
Time 1779. Enter Capt. Whakton of the Court and 
addresses Council.) 

Wharton. 

Your honor please and rev'rend councillors. 
The officer appointed by the Court 
To serve the writ of' summons has returned 
And makes report that service cannot be 
Upon defendant now obtained ; indeed 

{Reads paper in his hand.) 

He here reports that late as yesterday, 
One week ago, defendant left in haste 
The city, but for what, is ignorant. 

Pres. Peed. 

"Was not accused, by legal process, made 
Acquainted with the fact that here to-day 
He would be called to answer make, and plead 
Unto the charges here alleged and filed? 

Wharton. 

Your honor please, a copy of the same 
Was duly forwarded defendant, sir, 



10 BENEDICT AENOLD. 

And by him was received while in the camp 
Of Washington at Valley Forge ; 
But, sirs, it seems that he no notice took 
Of this proceeding of the court, but did 
In terms contemptuous speak of this affair 
As if it were a farce, or solemn mockery. 

Reed. 

The officer will then proceed with due 
Authority, and in the name of law 
Supreme, before this court immediately 
Compel defendant Arnold to appear. 

Morris {Arnolds attorney and friend). 

Your Honor please, and Judges honorable, 
I beg the leave to say, defendant needs 
No special effort made, or summoning, 
Nor mandate harsh, with magisterial seal 
Or scroll affixed to have him here before 
The court ; nay more, with readiness awaits 
He, sirs, the hour when cheerfully and full 
And satisfactorily he will reply 
To all the charges brought or here alleged. 
Think not, most honored councillors, he dreads 
This hour, but most eagerly he waits 
The opportunity when he before 
Fair judges and most honorable can lay 
His cause, and have his vindication made 
Complete by men who honest are and will 
Be glad a righteous verdict to pronounce. 

Wharton. 

Then why not, at this time and place, appear 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



11 



According to announcement of the Court, 
If lie in truth so earnestly desires 
His. spotless, saintly character exposed 



? 



Morris. 

Your honor please I solemnly protest 

Against proceedings thus, in absence of 

Defendant. 'Tis beneath the dignity 

Of this tribunal here convened to sit 

In judgment on a man — yea, officer — 

Who bears a name for gallantry not one 

In all the Army, sir, would blush to own. 

'Twas he who made defeat seem honorable 

Before the flinty walls of Quebec's heights; 

'Twas he who snatched with superhuman skill 

And strength the victory of Bemis heights, 

Though robbed of his command and forced to fight 

Within the rank and file. This daring soul 

Inspired the troops and sent the thrill of hope 

Through every heart which won that bloody day. 

He bears the scars of battle on his front 

That tell a tale more eloquent and true 

Than human tongue can speak or pen can paint. 

Judge Reed. 

That Arnold is a man of chivalry, 

An officer of merit well deserved, 

No one dares question here ; but then, alas ! 

The very best of men, ostensibly, 

Have quite another phase of life not known 

So openly, except it falleth out 

That little heed is given or care bestowed 



12 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

In reference to others who are on 

The watch to quick detect what might have passed 

Unnoticed by the unsuspecting eye. 

Wharton (in .subdued tones- he speaks to all and no one 
in particular). 

Ah, yes ; 'twill soon appear that for this Court, 
The President especially, supreme 
Contempt he bears, and most defiantly 
Parades it forth, but then they'll see it soon 
When he disputes the Court's authority. 

(Addressing the Court.) 
Your honor please, and noble councillors, 
That writ be issued, I insist, to bring 
Defendant vi et armis into Court. 

Morris. 

Your Honor please, and Judges honorable, 
I am assured beyond all doubt that soon 
Defendant will before the Court appear 
And have excuse to plead for this delay ; 
Some cause, we know not of, I doubt it not, 
Hath kept him thus so far beyond the hour. 
(Looking out of window sees Arnold approaching.) 
Ah, now your Honor please I see he comes — 

(Addressing Wharton.) 
And when he comes, I pray you mark his mien, 
The clever bearing he sustains before 
This august Court, and see if you'll detect 
The proud, defiant man, aristocrat 
As you have pictured here so graphically. 
(Arnold enters with polite bows and apologies.) 



BENEDICT AKXOLD. 13 

Arnold. 

Your Honor please and noble councillors 
I beg, and truly, sirs, your pardon for 
This long delay ; but matters very grave, 
We might add serious, have kept me late. 

Judge Reed. 

This awkward tardiness, and on the part 

Of officers of trust especially, 

The men on whom the public eye is fixed, 

With whom entrusted are such interests, 

Not light responsibilities indeed, 

Doth faintly speak in terms commendingly. 

Arnold . 

But, sirs, a representative I had 
Before the Court, and had your honors thought 
To have proceeded with the case, 'twould not 
To me at least have been objectionable. 
In truth, your Honor please, I only knew 
Of this proceeding, sirs, while on my way 
To Albany, in camp at Valley Forge, 
Where^I had stopped with General Washington 
To lay before his mind my future plans, 
And his emphatic sanction to obtain. 
But suddenly there came a messenger 
With the announcement, most vehemently 
Pronounced, that I in person must appear 
Before the council here, and to defend 
Or rather vindicate my character. 
In haste I came with unabated speed, 
Forsook my journey on to Albany, 
And with but little awkward tardiness 



14 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

I have arrived and will most cheerfully 
An answer make ; but as the eager Court 
Has deemed it so important to proceed 
For fear of Justice's disapproving smile 
In halting for a spell, I now repeat 
I had a representative, and he 
Could certainly have answer made 
Most satisfactorily unto a court 
So strict for justice and for honesty. 

Judge Beed (roughly). 

The prisoner is aware that legally 

We could not have proceeded with the case 

In absence of accused, contrary to 

A maxim of the law that's known to all 

Who care to know the practice of the Court, 

Arnold. 

I clearly understand, your Honor please, 
This custom of the Court, but certainly 
I'm not before this Court on charges held 
As in the case of those regarded criminal^? 
But let me see the charges here alleged ; 
I read them not when they were forwarded, 
While in the camp, and hence I'm in the dark 
Concerning this quite strange proceeding, sirs. 

Judge Reed. 

Attorney for the State will please proceed 
To lay before the Court the case and read 
Each sep'rate count recorded in the bill 
And passed upon — 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 15 

Arnold (speaks emphatically). 
As passed upon by whom ? 

Judge 'Reed. 

A Jury, sir, and of the Commonwealth ; 

A Jury, sir, of Pennsylvania State, 

The peers of patriots, conservators 

Of sacred rights inviolable, sir, 

And guardians of our liberties and laws 

That would be trampled on, ignored and spurned 

By base usurpers and aristocrats. 

Arnold. 

But let us have the charges in the bill 
Not simply, sir, alleged, but verified 
And then it will be time to name and brand 
The criminal ; but let us understand 
That there be lying tongues and sland'rous lips 
Now busy in their fiendish, ghoulish work 
Of damning reputation and fair names. 
To him who's thus inspired for such a task 
I here forewarn, escape! he dare not hope 
For such a boon. Before the gods I swear 
To stop not in my search till I have found 
The hiding places of such imps of hell, 
And drag them forth into the light of day 
Where they can sun themselves before the gaze 
So scrutinous of those who've never seen 
Their true deformity. 

(Sensation and disorder.) 

Judge Reed. 

The Court commands that order be observed ; 



16 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Not one more interruption or delay 
Will be allowed, nor unbecoming speech 
Like this from prisoner here. 

Arnold. , No prisoner, sir ! 

By whose authority speak you the word? 

Judge Reed. 

The Sheriff will obey the Court's commands 
And hold the prisoner here in custody 
To answer for contempt of Court if one 
More interruption shall occur to-day. 

Morris. 

Your Honor please, and Judges honorable, 
We now unto the ruling of the Court 
Exception take, and do a motion make 
(Which will be overruled we are assured) 
To now remove the cause upon the grounds 
Of lack of jurisdiction of this Court; 
Then, sirs, to Congress we do take appeal 
Where righteous vindication shall be made 
And honorable acquittal be pronounced. 

Wharton. 

Your Honor, please, the Council of the State 
Has jurisdiction, in such cases brought, 
Supreme; and they are not appealable. 

Morris. 

Your Honor dare not make a ruling thus, 
When more than once the question has been settl'd 
Though it is true, in matters of the State, 
Unmixed with questions of the Government, 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 17 

Is vested power supreme ; but in a cause 

Like this, arraigning as a criminal 

A regular commissioned officer 

In active service of the Government, 

And charges that affect him only, sir, 

Officially, you disregard, nay more, 

You set aside the Constitution, sir, 

The shield and bulwark of our liberty. 

Kefuse our plea or interpose your power, 

And then your Honor soon shall understand 

Elsewhere than here there is a power supreme. 

Judge {very sternly). 

The charges brought are properly before 

The proper Court, and it is ruled that now 

The answer shall be made. Although he claims 

Protection from the general Government, 

Defendant is no less a citizen 

Because a soldier of the Government — 

To him secured, as to the humblest of 

Our citizens, his life, his property. 

Therefore allegiance to the State he owes 

And should be strictly held amenable 

To law as any other citizen. 

Besides, the counsel for defendant did 

Before the court announce your willingness 

To stand or fall according to the law, 

And you, in language unmistakable, 

Affirmed the cause might have proceeded here 

Though you were absent from the Court. 

Is this not true, that by this ppeech you did 

Confess the jurisdiction of the Court? 



18 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Arnold. 

Your Honor please, I then was ignorant 

Of the true character of charges brought ; 

I thought, perhaps, 'twas some offense so slight 

As scarcely to deserve the notice of 

This august Court; for surely I would not 

Have here appeared if I had even dreamed 

Of being held according to the bill. 

No power have you to try an officer 

Of rank, on charges such as here you have ; 

He only is subordinate unto 

The court appointed by the Government. 

Wharton. 

Your Honor please, the charges here preferred 

Were duly sent, or copy of the same, 

To prisoner while in camp near Valley Forge ; 

And now in total ignorance he seems 

To be. It is a trick he plays to shirk 

And shun the trying ordeal of this hour; 

And this refusal, sir, to answer make 

Is prima facie evidence of guilt. 

Morris. 

Your Honor please, it surely does appear 
To any one, except he be stone-blind, 
That prejudice and spiteful enmity, 
Not love for justice nor respect for law, 
Began this work — a persecution, sir ; 
And though we granted your prerogative, 
The jurisdiction claimed in matters thus 
To go to trial here, we still decline 
And therefore unto Congress we appeal. 



UENEDICT AKNOLD. 19 

Arnold. 

No, sir ; your Honor has betrayed the fact 
That it is possible for e'en a Judge 
Of -Pennsylvania justice to become 
A bitter partisan, to justice blind. 

(Sensation among the Judges.) 
Ah no, my lords and noble councillors, 
The cloaks ye wear, the spotless ermine pure, 
May wear as well and fit as gracefully 
On tyrant's shoulders as on patriots. 
The base conspirators of proud old Rome 
The toga wore, the cloaks of honesty ; 
But underneath the mask was there concealed 
The treacherous dagger in a traitor's hand ; 
And even in the name of liberty, 
A conscience-stupefying drug, they struck 
The hellish blow of murd'rous villainy ! 
Away, to Congress I appeal, and there 
Shall Justice trumpet forth my innocence 
And all the world shall know there is one man 
Who's not ashamed to face the record he 
Has made, though writ in characters of blood ! 

(Excitement, confusion and tumult. Arnold leaves with 
lawyer and friends in disgust.) 

Judge Heed. 

The Sheriff will adjourn the Court, and go 
Prepared with proper writ immediately 
To bring as prisoner before the Court 
Defendant Arnold. For his cool contempt, 
So manifest, he'll answer grievously. 
(Enter Messenger in haste from Gen. Washington.) 



20 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Your Honor please, a message here I bring 
From Gen'ral Washington and relative 
To this proceeding of Arnold, sir. 

{Sands paper to Judge Meed, who reads a moment.) 

Judge Meed. 

Here is the order sent from Washington 
To have appointed from the Council here 
Wise men and true to meet commision of 
The Congress convened, and this will be 
The Court to sit in judgment finally 
Upon the case. This Court is now adjourned. 

{All retire except Reed and Pros. Att'y Wharton, who hold 
a short conference ) 

Wharton {with bated, breath). 

Now let the matter be quick put in shape, 
For it is best that it has turned out so; 
For we can sure convict the wretch before 
The high commission, and his conduct here 
To-day will greatly aid us in our plan 
To show him forth in all his villainy. 

Judge Heed. 

Then be it understood we push the case. 
I now will go to think it out, and you 
Will meet me after ten to-night at home. 

{Exit Judge Heed.) 

Wharton. 

Ah, by the gods, we'll scotch the vipers yet ! 
( Wharton retires from the stage. End of 1st Scene.) 



B&DEDICT ARNOLD. 21 

ACT I— Scene II. 

(In the parlor of Judge Shippen. Miss Shippen alone and 

soliloquizing.) 
Miss Shippen. 

Oh, how I do detest and hate the wretch, 
This Captain Wharton who is so puffed up 
With vanity and pride contemptible ! 
And, verily, he hates the General. 
In quantity his heart doth overflow ; 
In quality 'tis gall and wormwood mixed. 
Oh, how his jealous soul would thrill with joy 
To sure succeed in making all believe 
That General Arnold was a villain base, 
A petty coward, mean, contemptible ! 
(Summons at the door.) 

But hush ! I hear a summons at the door ; 
My heart is in my throat ; suppose it is 
The General, but oh, that voice — not his — 
Ah, yes 'tis he ; his very foot-steps fall 
Like music on my ears — but here he comes. 

(Enter Arnold.) 
Arnold. 

Your pardon I entreat, Miss Maggie, for 

Intruding thus without obtaining leave 

Or even hinting by a note my wish 

To spend an evening hour with you all. 

(Judge Shippen enters parlor.) 

Judge Shippen. 

Most gladly, General, do we welcome you; 
Our home is open always, as our hearts, 



22 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

To all our friends, and you especially. 

So let's be seated for the very talk 

I've purposed oft to have before you leave 

For your command, at West Point, I believe. 

The thought of sending word for you to come 

Was shaping in my mind this very hour. 

Arnold. 

Most fortunate I am indeed and more 
Than happy here to be among my friends. 

Miss Shippen. 

Our wishes often are presentiments, 
Nay prophecies perhaps we might affirm, 
Therefore you've not surprised us over much. 

Arnold. 

I certainly must speak my happiness 

To know I'm thus so kindly kept in mind 

By cherished friends who know what friendship means. 

How yearningly my soul doth sigh for this ! 

An angel's tongue could faintly syllable 

The unvoiced gratitude that fills my heart. 

Miss Shippen. 

But, Gen'ral, if you knew just what was thought 

Or said of you, and not by loyalists, 

You might perhaps be more sparing in thus 

Bestowing gratitude ; for those there be 

Who have aught else than honey on their tongues 

In syllabling your name and fame aloud. 

And just now father made remark to you 

That you were in his mind when you arrived ; 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. % 

The proverb, I believe, goes somehow thus : 
"Think of his majesty, his imp appears; " 
But then, perhaps, it might be nearer this: 
" Think of the angels, and you hear their wings." 

Arnold. 

Indeed it is most singular that oft 

We have fulfillment of our thoughts by the 

Appearance sudden of the ones we had 

For years forgot. There is a law of mind 

Or heart not understood in our philosophy ; 

But there must be a mutual sympathy 

To bring together, and invisibly, 

Responsive minds— by unseen cords they're held. 

There is indeed a spirit intercourse. 

But to return to your remark, I do 

Emphatically appreciate the fact 

That those there are who fain would rob me of 

My character by sland'rous villainy. 

I feel, and keenly so, the thrusts they make, 

But, coward like, it's in the dark they stab. 

Judge Shippen. 

But, General, you are not ignorant 

Of those who are your true, admiring friends. 

The spirit must proceed from hell that prompts 

Such conduct on the part of those who are 

Endeavoring with all their jealous hate 

To drag your honor down into the dust 

And trying hard to damn your character ; 

But know that there are those who are your friends. 

Arnold. 

I thank you, sir ; and gratefully I feel 



24: BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

The force of kindness thus and sympathy ; 
Therefore most gladly would I tell you all 
And thus expose the cruel villainy 
Of my chief enemies. In fact I have 
Resigned command of Philadelphia post 
To rid myself of such vile company. 

Judge Shippen. 

And who are they, I pray? And do they seem 
Intent upon their course iniquitous? 

Arnold. 

Ah, had you witnessed, sir, the farce they played 
On yesterday, a mockery sublime — 
I'll dignify it not by saying trial. 

(Continuing to speak, but to Miss Shippen.) 

But then perhaps, Miss Maggie, you prefer 

To hear more pleasant themes than this discussed ? 

Miss Maggie. 

There are, most certainly, more pleasant themes ; 

But none there are perhaps to all concerned 

More full of interest, so then, if not 

Forbidden, I would much prefer remain. 

We are not ignorant of ev'ry thing — ■ 

It seems that Wharton is in love with you. 

Arnold. 

His name I spit as poison from my tongue ; 
But pardon me, I pray, for speaking thus. 
The very thought of him doth me provoke 
Beyond endurance, I am grieved to say. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 25 

Judge 8. 

Now, General, we should be pleased to have 
More information, and from you yourself; 
And if there's aught that can be done to aid 
You, sir, in this affair you know 
You have our sympathy. 

Arnold. Most certainly, 

Dear Judge, do I appreciate these words. 
But let me now reveal a secret fact 
To you unknown, as it will grievous be : 
There are, right here in Philadelphia, 
A host of spies — your very neighbors, sir, 
They are — who look with dark, suspicious eye 
Not only, sir, on me but on yourself. 
They whisper in the secret closet now, 
But soon they'll on the house-top loud proclaim 
That you disloyal have become and are 
Against the war of Independence ; 
Or, more, in sympathy with the Royalists. 

Judge S. (vehemently). 

On what, sir, do they predicate such views ? 
What act or speech of mine that doth betray 
Me as a British sympathizer and 
Against the Colonies — my Government ? 

Arnold. 

It is because the public eye has marked 
You close when we have met familiarly ; 
And more, the public ear has caught the news, 
However false it matters not, that here 
Within your home have talks been freely made 



26 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

That hinted much of treason damnable. 
The busy tongue of slander syllables 
Aloud that your fair daughter and your wife 
Have secret correspondence with those 
Beyond the lines, with British officers. 

Judge 8. 

But your reply I cannot understand 

In reference unto yourself; for why 

Should I suspected be because I am 

Oft seen with you is passing strange indeed. 

But I confess the fact, it grieves me much 

That Margaret, my daughter here, cannot 

Become a sympathizer with our cause ; 

But she is less a tory than they think, 

And my dear -wife is simply politic. 

These sneaking curs, that snarl and whine and bite 

Behind the back or in the dark, who may 

They be, I pray ? 

Arnold. Ah, rightly have you nam'd 

These lazy curs forever whining 'round ; 
These cowards mean, contemptible ; they are 
The uncouth common herd ; envious are 
Of you, of all who are above their sphere, 
And, with a hatred insuppressible, 
Of everything like aristocracy, 
Upon a level with themselves they seem 
Determined hence to drag all classes down. 
They raise the demon cry of tyranny, 
Of traitors damnable who ought to die ; 
But I will show that there is dignity 
In rank, and royalty there is in blood. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 27 

Judge S. 

But Arnold, dear, you must remember that 

It is this very thought of royalty, 

Of- blood hereditary, that doth fire 

The patriot's soul. The cry that stirs the heart 

And nerves the soldiery with courage true 

Is, " down with tyrants and aristocrats 

And up with freemen by royalty oppressed ! " 

Ifiss Shippen. 

Ah yes, this is the cry of knaves and fools ; 
The fools do echo back the cry of knaves. 
How pitiful indeed the sorry sight 
To see the game designing tricksters play ! 

(Summons at the door — Wharton announced — Miss Ship- 
pen agitated, and says :) 

And sure it is that horrid Wharton now, 
And he will call for me. What shall I do ? 

Arnold. 

But you must see him now and also treat 

Him very sociably. I have a point 

To make, so do not let him know that I 

Have called to-night. Your father will retire 

With me into this room apart and there 

Will wait till he is gone ; but there, he comes I 

(Arnold and Judge Shippen go into adjoining room and 
Wharton enters the parlor.) 

Wharton. 

A pleasant evening may I wish for thee, 
Miss Maggie, as thou sittest here alone. 



28 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Miss jS. 

I thank thee, Captain. Wilt thou join me here, 
Beside the window, where we get the breeze ? 

Wharton. 

And you all alone to-night ? But then 
You have your music and your books to keep 
You company. 

Miss S. And I believe you sing 

And much enjoy the parlor as the camp ? 
Why not accept this seat and favor me 
With one of your late songs, and so much praised ? 

Wharton. 

I thank you heartily, but now I have — 

Am sorry I am sure — but little time 

To spend in your delightful company. 

And are you here alone ? I thought perhaps 

That he — but then I will not name the wretch — 

And you are blest with your own thoughts to-night? 

Miss S. 

Why, certainly ; and don't you see I am 
Alone, and do you think I am afraid ? 
Sometimes ourselves are our best company. 

Wharton. 

Your pardon now, Miss Shippen, I would beg ; 
But here I've called to now make known to you 
The truth concerning an affair I know 
Not pleasant to your ears ; but I refer 
To Arnold, who is my chief enemy. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. V\) 

Most thoroughly I know you understand 
How he succeeds in calling forth my hate, 
Not only for the reason of his crimes, 
But that he dares to rival me in your 
Esteem, and by deception's cunning art. 
He has of late provoked me till I am 
Determined he shall answer make upon 
The field of honor, and the challenge will 
To him be forwarded immediately. 
His reputation with the pistol has 
Been made, and therefore that will be his mode, 
And here's the weapon that shall tell the tale. " 

{Here exhibits the pistol.) 
His heart, as black as hell itself, shall be 
The target for my sure and certain aim. 

{Accidentally pistol falls and fires — 3fiss S. faints — Whar- 
ton dumfounded retires — Arnold and family run in the 
room). 

Judge S. 

Quick ! go some one immediately and bring 
The Surgeon here ! Dear Gen'ral, will you go ? 

Arnold. 

Most certainly ; a moment, he'll be here. 
{Exit Arnold.) 

Mrs. Shippen. 

Kind Heaven, what does all this mean, I pray ! 
Come, Maggie dear, my daughter, are you killed? 
Thank God she lives. Dear darling, can't you speak ? 

{Here she rallies and speaks to her Mother?) 



30 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Miss Maggie. 

Yes, Mother ; it was nothing but a fright, 
'Twill soon be over, take me to my room ; 
But where's the horrid man, the murderer, 
That Captain Wharton ? 

Judge 8. Daughter, he is gone ; 

But why, dear, do you call him murderer? 
Did he do aught to thee ? If so he dies. 

Miss S. 

Ah no, but only that he said he would 

Be sure to kill the General and that 

A challenge he had sent ; he showed to me 

The horrid weapon that was dropped and fired. 

Mrs. S. 

Ah well, think nothing now about it, dear, 
The Gen'ral will no doubt be able to 
Defend himself without your precious aid. 

(Miss S. taken to her room — Enter Surgeon and Arnold.) 

Judge 8. 

This way, please, doctor, but she rallies fast ; 

'Twas only fright, an accidental shot 

From pistol dropped by Wharton on the floor. 

(Arnold left alone — They retire to Miss S's chamber.') 

Arnold (soliloquizing). 

And sure enough that Wharton's on my track 

Again, forever dogging at my heels, 

And scents me like a blood-hound in the wake. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 31 

And here I swear, and now, this thing must stop 
Or by the gods I'll stop the villain's breath. 
{Enter Judge 8.) 
Judge 8. 

What did you just then, General, observe? 

Arnold. 

Not anything of consequence, but was 
As I quite often do unconsciously 
When left alone, soliloquizing, sir. 

{Summons at the door.) 

Judge 8. 

Ah, some one else has called; I'll go myself. 
{He goes and returns with Wharton and a letter?) 

Judge 8. 

And here for you I have, dear General, 
A note or letter stamped officially ; 
In haste the messenger did seem to be, 
But at the door awaits he your reply. 

{Arnold reads papers — Unconsciously drops a sheet, ob- 
served and secured secretly by Wharton.) 

Arnold. 

This letter brings the news I've waited for ; 
I must this moment go and send reply. 
Your pardon for thus leaving suddenly, 
But soon at my head-quarters I must be. 
Obey, this is the soldier's life. Adieu ! 
And may Miss Maggie soon be well again. 

{Arnold leaves and does not recognize Wharton.) 



32 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Wharton. 

I beg your pardon, Judge, 'twas all my fault ; 
But I am glad no serious harm is done. 
I have returned for papers I forgot. 

Judge S. 

What papers, may I ask, had you forgot? 

Wharton. 

Papers in the case of Arnold, sir ; 
They go to Congress, and immediately. 

Judge S. 

You will forthwith procure the papers, sir, 
And take your leave. No man can come into 
My home and thus insult a man so dear 
To me as Arnold is ; a man that's true. 

Wharton. 

As you desire, I take my leave ; and, sir, 
Most willingly ; but you may understand 
That for an insult thus I shall obtain 
Kevenge, and Gen'ral Arnold I will hold 
Responsible, and you with your gray hairs 
I here forewarn. Secure thou mayest think 
Thyself, but eyes there are that see and ears 
That hear, and little dost thou dream of what 
Is whispered by a hundred lips and loud ; 
The very air is heavy with their threats. 

Judge S. 

Quick quit you, sir, my house, my premises, 
Or else your life shall pay the penalty. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 33 

Wharton. 

I go, but mark you well the prophecy. 
(Exit Wharton.) 

Judge S. (to himself). 

And has it come to this at last, that I 

Am thought by all a traitor to my land ? 

And shall it go unrighted — this great wrong ? 

I am no traitor as they think, no friend 

To England's cruel tyranny. But oh, 

To shield my darling daughter and my wife ; 

Oh, what shall now be done ? The time has come 

When I must take a stand unquestionable. 

And yet I love my child and him also 

I love, him whom she loves ; my wife I love ; 

But oh ! I love my country too, the land 

That gave me birth, that gives me liberty. 

But I must soon decide, the hour is near, 

And by the heavens I do decide : henceforth 

To thee, my country, and to Thee, my God, 

Forevermore committed thoroughly. 

Oh, land of liberty baptized in blood, 

The blood of patriots that hallows thee, 

I claim thee mine, dear America, 

And I am thine in love's eternal bonds, 

And nobler far than wear a crown 'twill be, 

And sweeter to my heart, to die for thee. 

But 0, what secrets shall there be revealed; 

I dread the revelation that must come. 

My daughter madly loves the man, and he 

With equal madness in return does love. 

The dark, uncertain morrow I must wait; 

Oh, what will it disclo39, what will it bring ? 



34: BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Arnold {suddenly entering unobserved). 

Yes, wait the morrow ; it will bring to us 
The sweet sunshine of happiness and hope 
And to my longing heart the blissful dream 
Of love fulfilled. Ah, yes, the morrow wait, 
When not a cloudlet will a shadow cast. 
Then come ; let's talk of brighter days ahead. 
The gods their approbation smile, but come. 

{Exit arm-in-arm — Curtain drops — End of Act I.) 



ACT II— Scene I. 



{In the Street. Alex. Hamilton, Secry of War, and 
General Greene meet. 

Hamilton {to Gen. Greene). 

A messenger from Reed has just arrived, 

In haste despatched ; hath brought this letter, sir, 

To you directed, and this package here : 

He waits the answer at the Capitol. 

Gen. Greene {receiving the letter). 

This surely means no pleasant news that with 
Such haste as you declare the courier 
Has come and eager waits a quick reply. 

{Opening it he reads, and with a look of scorn in angered, 
suppressed language, speaks.) 

The devil take the wretch and all the crew 
Concerned together in the hellish plot ! 

(Tears up the paper and stamps it under foot.) 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 35 

Hamilton. 

And pray, dear Gen'ral, what has happened now 
To stir you up so thoroughly? And have 
The British sure enough a landing made 
And threaten Philadelphia? Quick work! 

Gen. Greene. 

Oh, no indeed, the British are not named ; 
It is a note from Gen'ral Keed about 
The same old matter, Arnold's devilment. 
And less Keed hates the devil, sir, than he 
Does Arnold, whom he wishes was in — well, 
Not near the pearly gates of paradise. 

Hamilton. 

What does he say about the man ? Let's see ; 
But you've destroyed the letters, sir, and why ? 
Perhaps we'll need that note as evidence ! 

Gen. Greene. 

The evidence? What evidence you mean? 

Hamilton. 

Why, have you heard it not that Arnold has 

Been charged with grossest crimes and has been held 

For trial, sir, before the Council of 

The State, and he to Congress did appeal? 

And also there the Council did prefer 

The charges of the State's grand jury found, 

In number eight, and very damaging. 

Gen. Greene. 

And what is now proposed ; has Congress said 
What disposition shall be made, or how 
That Arnold shall be tried ? 



36 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Hamilton. Why, certainly, 

And this was just the news I was about 
To break to you, when you had read the note 
I brought, delivered by the messenger. 

Gen. Greene. 

Then let me hear the news, although I'm sick 
Of all this stuff; the devil's in it all. 

Hamilton. 

According to request of Arnold, sir, 

Hath Congress named and set apart the Court, 

Consisting of the army officers, 

To try a fellow-soldier charged with guilt. 

And you have been appointed President 

Of Military Council now convened. 

So let us hence unto the Capitol, 

For there the Council sits to try the cause. 

The hour is near at hand and we should be 

Now on our way, 'twill take a little time 

To reach the place ; but here's the nearest way : 

Down through this street and then toward the hill. 

Gen. Greene. 

I go at your command ; but let me say 

I'd not this business undertake to-day 

If right I had of individual choice ; 

I'd rather shun responsibility. 

And, mark you well, there'll be a tale to tell 

For this day's doings ; mark the prophecy ! 

{They retreat armin-arm up the street — End of Scene I 
AH II) 



BEDEDICT ARNOLD. 37 



Act II — Scene II. 



[Part of the Court- Martial convened waiting. As curtain 
rises Hamilton and Gen. Greene enter. Gen. 
Greene taking the President's chair. Arnold and 
Judge Shippen follow in the immediate rear of Ham- 
ilton and Greene.) 

Gen. Greene. 

Tis known to all the meaning of this Court 
By order of the Chief Executive 
Convened, and also at the instance of 
A brother officer, who here appeals 
For righteous judgment to be passed upon 
The hearing of the cause both pro and con. 
The burden falls upon the advocate 
To make out clear the case on the behalf 
Of Government and law. He will proceed 
Now to relate the charges in the bill, 
The proofs alleged, the depositions made, 
And then conclude by summing up the facts 
According to the law and evidence. 

Hamilton. 

Your honors please, a motion will I make 
To here withdraw the charges all but two, 
As, sirs, the other six have reference 
To matters grave, but not within the scope 
Or jurisdiction of this Court ; for they 
Relate to conduct private, personal, 
To Arnold simply as a citizen 
And not an officer ; for surely his 
Official record only you will pass 
Upon. ^ 



38 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

President Greene. 

Of course the ruling thus will be. 

Hamilton. 

And now, your honors please, I will relate 
The charges here recorded in the bill, 
Except the ones ruled out, and these are two. 

{Hamilton reads the two charges with comments?) 

The first in order does plainly hint 
Of treason foul and dark and damning plots, 
Of treachery ; and, mark ye now the words : 
"Upon a certain day — and just before 
The army came were many royalists 
Here housed, and even British officers 
In dress of citizens were 'mong the crew — 
Did Arnold give unto the owner of 
A private boat a passport through the lines, 
And thus he helped the tories to escape 
The guard of cavalry that had been sent 
To seize all British sympathizers and 
Their property." This is the charge alleged 
As number one ; and now the second is 
Somewhat akin, in spirit, to the first : 
"And Arnold sent all public carriages, 
The wagons of the government and state 
And placed them also in possession of 
The refugees, the tories, in their flight 
From justice and unto the enemy." 
And may your honors please, and councillors, 
The charges here set forth do certainly 
Appear most grievous and most damaging, 
And were it not for answer here annexed 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 39 

By the defendant in his plea unto 

Each sep'rate count in the indictment named 

This Court could nothing do but now to find 

Defendant guilty of the crimes, and would 

To Congress recommend immediately 

That he should cashiered be and in disgrace 

Be driven from the army or compelled 

By punishment to pay the penalty, 

A punishment deserving and severe. 

But, sirs, it seems that something must be done 

To vindicate the government and let 

The chief authorities of state now know 

That their prerogative we don't ignore. 

Then, sirs, a judgment at your hands we ask 

In keeping with the law ; a verdict, sirs, 

According to the facts, and there will be, 

Pronounced by all, a loud amen indeed. 

President Greene. 

And now 'tis proper time defendant make 
Reply to charges brought so damaging 
To one who bears a name and character 
So fair, and who hath won the warm esteem 
Not only of our Washington, but all 
The officers and privates of the army. 
In vindication of that name 'tis now 
Allowed defendant to reply at length. 

Wharton (entering in haste and speaking vehemently). 
Your honors please, your pardon I entreat ; 
But here I am with information, sirs, 
Too valuable to overlook, and while 
I was detained contrary to my will 



40 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

And all but was too late, I yet rejoice 

That now, before decision you have reached, 

I have arrived and with some startling facts 

Which are substantiated, sirs, beyond 

All doubt, and they your eyes will ope to see 

Things dark and damnable in one who here 

Appears a very saint in outer life. 

But take a look behind the scenes, and then 

Your verdict! let it be* proclaimed aloud, 

And, mark, there'll be a thousand loud amens. 

Pres. G. {sternly). 

Pray, sir, you'll occupy the witness stand 
And then in answer to the questions put 
You'll answer make. Please occupy the place. 

Wharton, {talcing the stand hesitatingly). 
Your honor please, I'll surely testify 
And on my strongest oath ; but, sir, indeed 
Not as a witness in the case I came, 
But as the country's advocate, and with 
The oaths of witnesses who testified 
Before the council of the city, sirs. 

Judge Shippcn. 

Your honor please, at the defendant's own. 
Eequest, I ask that on the record of 
The Court you'll enter me attorney for 
Defendant in the cause, and would request 
That name of witness also be enrolled 
And all his testimony be writ down ; 
Hereafter it may chance fall out that we 
A use may have for these proceedings here. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 41 

Pres. G. 

As you request, let it be done, and now 
Defendant's representative may have 
The witness here his answer make to all 
And any questions now legitimate. 

Judge S. 

The witness now unto the Court will please 

Relate the feelings personal he has 

Toward defendant and a reason give 

Or explanation why he is so bent, 

Determined, in this prosecution of 

A man he has no reason to believe 

Is guilty of the charges here preferred. 

Wharton. 

My feelings for defendant, I confess, 
Are not the pleasantest. 

Judge S. And please state why. 

Wharton. 

It might be rather delicate for me 
To fully answer make. 

Pres. G. Let's have it all. 

Wharton. 

Well, first I might reply, that Arnold's life 
In general provokes supreme disgust. 

Judge S. 

But witness knows too well that this is not 
The secret cause; he knows he falsifies. 



42 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Wharton. 

And if the Judge will force me here to say 
I'll speak of things he'd wish he'd kept aside. 

Pres. G. 

Let's have the truth ; no mincing matters here. 

Wharton. 

Then, sirs, it was but lately at the home 
Of present questioner when there were heard 
Between himself, in presence of his family, 
And Gen'ral Arnold, words not lawful to 
Be spoken publicly or privately. 

Judge S. 

And when the time of which you speak, and what 
Was said so dark and terrible? In full, 
Belate the conversation, sir, and who 
It was that heard the talk. 

Wharton. More time than one 

We might now name, but one especially 
Condemns the man. 

Judge jS. Out with this special time. 

Wharton. 

It was the night, if I remember straight, 
That followed day of Arnold's trial, sir, 
Before the Court of Philadelphia. 

Judge S. 

Who told you this? No hearsay evidence 
Will be allowed; you're lawyer 'nough for that. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 43 

Wharton. 

And mark you, sir, I clearly understand 
The ethics of the Court, and I am not 
Detailing hearsay evidence, but I 
Myself, with my own ears, did hear enough 
And with my eyes did see enough indeed. 

Judge S. 

Your honor please, I move you to allow 

The witness now to be impeached, for he 

Hath clearly made it out beyond a doubt 

That he's a base eaves-dropper of my house. 

For on that night it was that Arnold came 

Unto my home, a caller on my daughter, 

And there, in jest, he may have said that which, 

In earnest, would be reprehensible. 

But, sirs, allow that things were said by him 

In private and to one — I'll say it not — 

How does it seem for this intruder, sir, 

To spy thief-like around my premises 

To gather fam'ly news and scatter it 

Before the world? 

Wharton. I would reply to this — 

Pres. G. {to the witness). 

Be still; let not another word from thee 
Proceed connected with this business ; 
Thou hast, indeed, betrayed thy character. 

Wliarton {starting to leave in disgust). 
But here a paper is that I did find 
Upon the very night of which I spoke 



44 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

That will a story tell, a plot reveal, 

More damnable than you have even dreamed. 

Pres. G. 

The Sergeant of the Guard will here arrest 

The witness now and him will keep confined 

In custody till he is ordered free. 

If ready to proceed the Court will now 

Be pleased to have defendant make his plea. 

Arnold. (Spealcs by order of the JPreside?it.) 

Your honor please, and brother officers, 

It gives me joy and inexpressible 

To here appear and plead my cause. I know 

The temper of a soldier's mind — the true 

And pure emotion of the soldier's heart — 

And hence, most happy, sirs, am I to-day. 

To you, and now, I'll answer make to all 

The charges false and damnable as hell. 

I thank you, noble President, for those 

Kind words a moment back you spoke ; they give 

Me room to say the things I wish to say 

And not be deemed an egotist or one 

Endeav'ring to appear what he's not, 

Vain-glorious, yea puffed up with vanity. 

Ye judges know full well the history 

Of all my acts, and how I've never shunned 

Nor shirked the post of duty, neither, sirs, 

Of danger when my country's honor was 

At stake ; nor have I ever failed to be 

Where all true soldiers ought to be — I mean 

Among the first and foremost of the van — 

Right in the face of death, the cannon's mouth — 



BENEDICT AKNOLD. 4.") 

But, sirs, I keep you not detained with this 

Recital of my soldier-deeds. There are 

Ten thousand unknown names, the privates, sirs, 

The common soldiery, who gave their lives, 

Their all, and counted it no sacrifice, 

And they deserve the foremost meed of praise; 

But who would dare believe that one of these 

Could ever dream of treachery ? Oh no, 

Let them who never felt the magic thrill 

Of liberty nor shed a drop of blood — 

Let them be watched and with a sleepless eye 

"Who dareth to suspect him or doth accuse 

Who with his blood hath purchased liberty. 

Most noble sirs, I must, I do confess 

That there are spots that may be quickly seen 

Without a practic'd microscopic eye. 

I am no saint, and not a Pharisee; 

With more than slight or few regrets I look 

Upon my life and wish it otherwise ; 

But who the test would stand and unabashed 

If scrutinizing eyes were fixed upon 

The human soul disrobed and nakedly 

Exposed in all its true deformity? 

Let him that spotless claims or proves himself 

Be first to hurl the stone ; but oh, let him 

Beware who hath one speck upon his clothes ! 

But, may your honors please, I will detain 

The Court no longer with my feeble plea. 

I here submit my cause; 'tis pleaded ill, 

I do allow, so far as what I've said; 

But, sirs, I beg that you'll admit, and as 

My plea, the character I've borne for years 



46 BENEDICT AENOLP. 

Among my fellow-soldiers, those indeed 

Who know me intimately. For those who are 

My chiefest enemies I have a smile, 

And you, perhaps, will say it is contempt. 

But now to you belongs the task, I trust 

Not difficult, to pass upon my case. 

But here has come the State's Attorney, sirs, 

(Refers to Wharton contemptuously.) 
As if some heavy matter weighed upon 
His mind. Perhaps he had a part to play 
In this mock tragedy you would applaud 
Had you but let him speak, and truly, sirs, 
He plays artistically ; as one who has 
Kehearsed his piece at morning, noon, and night 
For some occasion great and honorable. 
I now have done ; your verdict I'll abide. 

One of the Council. 

I move you, Mr. President, that now 
Our verdict we announce and that it be 
In vindication of the character 
Of Arnold, and report, immediately 
To Chief Executive be sent and ask 
That Congress the decision do endorse. 

Pres. 

If now this verdict meets assent from all 
It shall be thus, and unto Congress sent 
As our report, and their approval asked. 

Arnold. 

Your honor please, and noble councillors, 
Allow me here to speak my gratitude 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 47 

And thank you, sirs, for this your verdict spoke 

Not only for my sake, but there is one — 

I would not name the name — but there is one 

Whose heart with deep expectancy does beat, 

Whose ears are itching for the latest news ; 

And when 'tis known in Philadelphia 

That "all the schemes iniquitous proposed 

Against me, sirs, have come to naught, there'll be 

One heart at least made glad, one tongue indeed 

To ask a benediction on your heads. 

And, sirs, besides, when next you get the news 

You'll understand I'm basking in the smiles 

Of one whose hand and heart, whose all I claim ; 

And now I go to quick fulfill my vows, 

The day's appointed and I eager wait. 

To you, again, I speak my gratitude ; 

And here, with all my friends, we say farewell ! 

And double honors crown your noble lives. 

{Rejoicing and cheers.) 

And unto all the Court and all my friends 

I here appeal to follow me, and let 

Us hence repair to pleas'nter scenes than this 

Where 'round the festive board, with words 

Unchained and honest will we speak, and wit 

Shall sparkle as the bead upon the wine. 

'Tis there we'll quick forget the painful past 

And even love our enemies. Then let 

All come and share my hospitality 

And snatch with me some hints of joys to come, 

The prelude to the heart's sweet symphony 

Whose pulsing beats keep measured time in hope, 

And ere a moon shall wane will realize 



48 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

The bliss of love,s enticing ecstacy. 
Come share a fellow-soldier's joy and teach 
The villains now the hero's art of life 
Around the festive board or in the camp. 

{Exit Arnold arm-in-arm with officers, followed by the 
Court and all — End of Scene II of Act II.) 



ACT III-^Scene III. 

{In the garden. Moonlight. Capt. Wharton and Judge 
Eeed in conversation.) 

Capt. W. 

The game is lost ; the fates are all against 
Our scheme ; that Arnold is the very devil ! 

Reed. 

What now has happened ? Tell me quick the news 
I've waited here these three long hours to hear. 

Capt. W. 

Why, sir, the Council did indeed decide 

That Arnold should go free, and that's not all. 

The sure impression on all minds and hearts 

Is that the villain is a perfect saint 

And we are basely persecuting him. 

I do believe had you and I been there 

An hour after verdict had been given 

Our necks would now be stretched upon a limb; 

You never saw excitement more intense 

In favor of a man, and bitter more 

Against his enemies. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 49 

Reed. Did not old Greene 

My letter get and Hamilton receive 
The charges sent ? 

Capt W. They did, assuredly, 

And Hamilton himself the motion made 
To drop all charges brought except the two 
Least strongly prove 1. 

Reed. And why didst thou not plead 

The case at length as State's solicitor ? 

Capt. W. 

Why, sir, 'twas Greene himself, the President, 
That ruled me out of order in that line. 

Reed. 

Did Congress pass upon and then endorse 
The verdict of the Court? 

Capt. W. Not done as yet. 

Reed. 

Then there is left us still a chance to make 
Our point, and when the people do find out 
The inwardness of Arnold's treach'rous heart 
They'll thank us then, in thunder tones, and cry 
For him as high as Haman to be swung. 

Capt. W. 

Ah, if we can succeed in making them 
Believe e'en what they say and know is true ! 
'Tis strange some people will discredit all 
Their senses ere they will believe the man 
Is not an angel. He has magic power 
He exercises o'er the mind — makes it 



50 BENEDICT ARNOLD. . 

Subservient to his own. But what is this 
I hear to-night upon the streets about 
This Arnold's marriage; and, really to 
Miss Maggie Shippen, daughter of the Julge? 

Reed. 

'Tis true, assuredly, and have you not 
An invitation from the Judge? I saw 
The cards to-day — to-morrow night's the time. 

Capt. W. 

And did you not, dear Reed, to Arnold send ■ 
The challenge I proposed? 

Heed. I thought it best 

To w T ait; the time is not yet ripe. 

Capt. W. And let 

The wretch go on and take as his, his wife, 

The woman of my soul? Ah, never; no 

He ne'er shall press to his black heart the form 

Of that dear one. This very night I'll seek 

Him out, and ere the morrow's sun shall rise 

He faces me upon the field. If not, 

A coward base and mean, contemptible, 

I will proclaim him publicly to be. 

Go send the messenger, and be in haste, 

To Arnold's room ; this night he sleeps within 

The city at his own headquarters there. 

To-morrow night, I trust it may be — hell I 

Reed. 

Desist, my Captain dear, 'twill spoil the plot 
And we'll be held his murderers sure as truth, 
And you must wait till proper time does come. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 51 

Capt. W. 

And let the villian proud befoul the maid, 

Debase her very soul and body, sir — 

He who is not in principle above 

The meanest, blackest murderer unhung? 

Ah, here's the plot; I see I have it sure. 

To : morrow night, at Justice Shippen's home, 

The maiden's father's, there's to be a feast 

In honor of the great event, and then 

It is my time. In ambush there concealed 

I'll mark my aim and draw the bead down fine 

And rob the maiden fair of his embrace, 

Except in death's cold arms, which she wilhloathe ! 

This is the thought and this will be the scheme, 

So farewell till you shall hear report. 

At ten, to-morrow night, be thou prepared 

To give me shelter in your home. The deed, 

It will, ah yes it must, it shall be done. 

Meed. 

Stay, Captain, here a moment more; and are 

You then determined thus to execute 

The horrid deed? Remember, Captain dear, 

'Tis terrible a fellow-creature's life 

To take, and may you now abjure the deed. 

Capt. W. 

I am determined, sir, he shall not have 
The blessed dreams fulfilled he entertains 
Of folding that dear form in his embrace. 
Pray stop me not ; determined, sir, I am 
Some plot to lay; and, sir, it shall succeed. 
Farewell, dear Reed, until the moon appear 



52 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

To-inorrow night, and in this garden here 
I'll tell thee all. 

(Exit Captain.} 

Heed. And he indeed is gone. 

Poor fellow ! how he madly loves the maid 
And how he madly hates the villain Arnold. 
But will he surely execute the threat ? 
'Tis terrible, 'tis horrible, and yet 
He has no fickle mind, no coward heart. 
He is determined I am almost sure ;' 
The morrow night will tell the tale — but what ! 
And if I am discovered, thought to be 
Connected with this business terrible, 
I also will be gibbeted, and I 
Am not quite ready thus to leave the stage ; 
I still have hope of other parts to play. 
But I must go and seek for him and stop 
The man, or else he'll bring us into grief. 
Suppose I cannot find him now, and more, 
Suppose he will not be dissuaded from 
The work; but oh, I must, I shall him f.nd 
Or else 'twill ruin bring to all our plans. 
Ye powers supreme, make known your strength and 

thwart 
A plan so damnable. This very night 
I'll find and on my knees will beg him to 
Desist. The madman, will he grant my prayer? 

{Curtain drops and Act II ends.) 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 53 



ACT III— Scene I. 

(On the evening of the marriage of Arnold to Miss Ship- 
pen. Curtain rises on a moonlit garden scene in rear 
of the residence of Judge S. The Jester or Fool meets 
a straggler from the army in the garden) 

Fool. 

Hold! Who comes there, and at this time of night 
Found prowling 'round the place? no business here 
You have ; I'll call police to put you out. 

Stranger. 

A moment hold and I'll explain. I've lost 
My way and now am hunting for the camp ; 
I have my pass by Gen'ral Arnold signed, 
But in the city I remained too late 
And hence have lost my way, and now I wish 
That ) ou would point me out the road that leads 
Toward the river, where is my command. 

Fool. 

And sure a soldier then you are — a "Reb," 
Or do you to the red coats, sir, belong ? 

Soldier. 

And did I not thee tell I had a pass 
From Gen'ral Arnold ; then no Briton, sir, 
Am I, but as you say, a " Reb." Will you 
Now please to show me on my way ? 

Fool or Clown. But would 

You ask a fool to show a fool his way ? 



54 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Soldier. 

A fool ! and this your part to play, a fool's? 

A fool you are of course for other fools ! 

Tis something new in our America ; 

I thought the custom was confined alone 

To England and among nobility. 

This sounds not well for true Democracy ! 

Fool. 

Why, yes ; and did you not the custom know 

That even here with folks of quality 

A fool's employed too? A jester he 

Is called. He keeps the spirits up and breaks 

The dull monotony ; this is the name 

They call it by. Existence would become 

Unbearable, the gayest, brightest life be sad 

If 'twere not for the fool who is allowed 

All privileges that he may choose, just so 

He is a number one, first-class fool. 

It takes a fool that is a fool to be 

A fool who is not fooled by other fools. 

Stranger. 

And this is here the style? Then certainly 
Your people must be royalists — I mean 
They are as we do call them, tories, sir ; 
Not rebels fighting for their liberty ! 



Fool. 



A fool indeed you seem to be to ask a fool 
Such questions, sir ; but if I knew your name 
Perhaps a fool might then enlighten thee. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 55 

Stranger. 

But what is going on to-night, and why 

Such stir and noise within the house ; there must 

Be quite a multitude ? In merriment 

They seem engaged, and is not there your place? 

Fool. 

Why, sir, and art thou ignorant of what 

Is eertainly the one, the chief event 

Of Philadelphia society ? 

To-night there is a feast excelling all 

That's ever been in all America 

In honor of the glorious wedding night 

Of Gen'ral Arnold to Miss Shippen, sir, 

My sweet young mistress, who does reign a belle, 

And sought she is by all the officers 

Of highest rank and fame throughout the army. 

Stranger. 

And have the vows of marriage been performed, 
The ceremony by the priest been said ? 

Fool. 

Not yet I would allow ; for hardly could 

They do the business well without the fool. 

If ever proper for a fool to have 

A say-so anywhere, it surely is 

When two young fools, or old, do match themselves 

In wedlock's holy bonds for good, for bad. 

But then I see the priest approach, and now 

The fun will soon begin ; the music starts ; 

I hear the wedding march ; I must be gone. 

Two other fools and me, and this makes three. 

{Exit in haste. End of Scene I, Act III.) 



56 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

ACT III— Scene II. 

{The couple 'march in before the priest, daughter on father s 
arm and Aenold on mother 's arm, standing. The 
company seated around. The Fool near foot-lights. 

Judge S. 

Most reverend father, thou who art indeed 
Ordained of Heaven thus to join in love 
Two hearts as one, fore'er inseparable, 
To you I bring my only daughter dear 
To give in marriage to this man whose heart 
And hand she now accepts ; her husband-guide 
Henceforth he is along the path of life, 
And may it be of pleasantness and peace. 

Priest. 

The holy ordinance we now proceed 
To celebrate is Heaven-ordained and does 
Keceive the solemn sanction from above. 
No longer are your paths, my friends, to lie 
In different directions ; through this life, 
Thus joined in hand, and as we trust in heart, 
You are the one way hence to walk, and we 
Do pray a happy and prosperous way 
'Twill be. And so it will if love sincere 
And holy virtue shall be always yours 
To have and practice in your daily life. 
Now do you each the other take in love 
According to the law of sacred writ 
That governs you united evermore, 
Insep'rable, as husband and wife ? 

Arnold and Miss S. 
We do. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 57 

Priest. 

In Heaven's name I do pronounce 

You man and wife ; what Heaven now hath joined 

Let never man asunder try to break. 

{Arnold is congratulated and kisses his bride?) 

Fool 

0, that magical kiss, 

What heavenly bliss 

On occasions like this 

If you fail not to miss 

Your chance of a kiss. 

And there's a fellow that now I could name 

Who'd give sure his neck to do just so, to claim 

The privilege of this — 

I mean to snatch a kiss ; 

But he has made a miss-take, sir ; 

Ah, ain't that wit, a choice bit ? 

Why, I'm a poet ; don't you know it ? 

\ Arnold. 

If then a poet you've become, you are 
Othello-like — your occupation's gone. 

Fool. 

But, sir, according to the schools 
Who wisely make and write the rules 
All poets, sir, of course are fools. 
But don't mistake ; it follows not 
(And you, dear sir, may judge the lot) 
That fools are poets ; if 'twere true, 
What poets were all fools like you ! 



58 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

Sir Stultus, you are personal and mast 
Be less familiar in your thrusts of wit. 

Fool. 

And so you think, dear Miss, I've made a hit, 
As you have certainly pronounced it wit. 

{To Arnold.) 
You've made a miss to-night and I a hit. 

Arnold. 

You are successful in your choosing, sir. 

Fool (points to the bride). 

I'm sorry I can't say the same for her : 
She's missed no more, as you will never be, 
And you'll allow this freak of liberty. 

(Music is heard in the rear room.) 

Judge S. 

Now to the hall of banqueting repair ; 
Let all proceed ; there's music sweet to cheer 
The saddest hearts, if sad hearts there can be 
At such a time, at such a place so free. 
Then let us all forget the cares of life 
For one brief while in honor of the wife. 

( They repair in couples to the room of feasting. The 
Fool, Sir Stultus, brings up the rear and speaks 
his nonsense.) 

Fool. 

All poets and lovers, doth every one say, 
Are fools and can't help it ; but I get my pay 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 59 

For acting the fool, and this is my trade ; 
But some are born fools, like poets, not made. 
But some how or other my head's in a bother, 
And I have just thought what the matter can be ; 
Tis the sure afterclap of yesterday's spree. 
So to-morrow look out and mark what I've said, 
There'll be pains in the stomach and pains in the head, 
And then all the fools will wish they were dead. 

Judge jS. 

Sir Stultus, why thus do you here delay, 
Why wait you in the hall ; then quick away. 

Fool. 

I go ; but mark you, sir, I want the pay ; 
Three quarts or more, no less, and every day. 

(Exit Fool. End of Scene II Act III) 



ACT III— Scene III. 
(The enjoyment begins. The Banquet Hall.) 

Arnold. 

Let's have the jester of the house brought forth 
He sings, he jests, talks poetry. 

Mrs. Arnold. And more ; 

He claims to be a seer, and does declare 
To him the secrets of the future are 
Revealed. He's known in the capacity 
Of fortune-teller unto more perhaps 
Than he'll allow ; for there is where he gets 
The loads of money he is wont to spend, 
And not legitimate. 



60 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Fool. I'm free to spend 

My own just as I please ; ain't this the land 

Of liberty ? Why, this is what we fight 

And die for — liberty. All patriots know 

This is what we want, this liberty 

To do just as we please and when we please. 

Ha ! ha ! but I don't see them fellers here, 

Engaged in this affair of liberty? 

How's this; no rebels here, but tories all? 

Now, s'pose 'twas known, and won't they find it out, 

That all the "Rebs" were left and none except 

You tories were invited here to-night? 

I heard to-day some blue-coat officers 

In conversation 'bout the cards sent out, 

And one of them remarked : You'll see that none 

But them tories will be there. The way 

They "cussed" you red-coat sympathizers would 
Have put to shame the man who started first 
The " cussing " business now so nourishing. 

Arnold. 

But give us now a song. You make the songs 
You sing, don't you ? Aren't they original ? 

Fool. 

yes, they are original indeed ; 

For who would sing the songs in books you see, 

Mere doggerel, not writ for fools like me. 

Arnold. 

And now you'll sing if Mrs. Arnold here 
Will play accompaniment — and will you play ? 

( The last words addressed to Mrs. Arnold.) 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 61 

Fool. 

And now I'll sing the special song I made 

In honor of this present great event, 

But can't proceed until my parched throat 

And lips, as dry as summer's dust, are moist. 

Take champagne, please ; it makes the" voice go smooth 

And tunes the tongue, electrifies the brain, 

And makes us all forget so quick our pain. 

{Drinks largely and sings ) 
A maiden in love sat weeping alone, 

To none would she tell her secret of grief; 
She denied she was sad when pressed to make known 
The truth of her mind, and never would own ; 
But she felt it the same, and wanted relief. 
( Chorus?) — Falda-ra-ridly, falda-ra day. 

Let all make ready for the great wedding day. 
But who can then know what there'll be to pay 
On the splendid occasion — the great wedding day? 

{Second verse.) 
We need not now stop to ask who's to blame, 

But soldier of rank, of highest degree, 
The maiden did love and wooing he came, 

And the way he did woo her 'twas something to see. 
Ah, thus it appeared not to all, but to me. 
( Chorus.) — Falda-ra-ridly, falda-ra-day. 

Let all make ready for the great wedding day, 
But who can then tell what there'll be to pay 
On the glorious occasion — the great wedding day? 

( Third verse.) 
The day it was set, and the hour was near, 
The feast it was spread, the music was gay, 



62 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

When suddenly there fell on the people a fear ; 

A wild shriek was heard. Oh, what is to pay? 

Was the question all asked on the great wedding day. 
{Chorus.) — Falda ra-ridly, falda-ra-day. 

Now, people, farewell ; my song I will close, 

But I feel very strange — not merry and gay 
Like a fool ought to feel, as a fool only knows — 

But, somehow or other, the reason can't say. 

(At this moment two pistol shots are heard on the out- 
side, Mrs. Arnold at the piano faints, all excitement, 
cries, rushing to and fro in haste and all are excited.) 

Judge 8. 

Blow out the lights and let the room be dark 
So they can't see or else they'll kill us all. 

Mrs. Shippen. 

But oh, my daughter ! wait ; I really 

Believe she's killed. Oh, daughter! Maggie! 

Do speak. Here's blood ! Oh, what on earth can this 

All mean ! Kind Heaven, shield us all I pray. 

Judge 8. 

The General's also shot; bring forth a light 
Again; the murd'rous villains now are gone. 

(End of Scene III, Act III.) 



BBDEDICT ARNOLD. 63 

ACT III— Scene IV. 

(Moonlight in the Garden. Wharton and Reed meet. 
Wharton is greatly excited.) 

Reed. 

Well, Captain, I have been impatiently 
Awaiting your return, and nervously 
I must confess I feel. 

Copt. W. And well you may 

Be nervous, sir ; the plot has failed again, 
The scene miscarried wofully. The wretch 
Whom I had hired to execute the plan 
Is captured, now in jail. He fired two shots ; 
Mis-aimed they were, and then he fled the place 
So terrified he knew not where to fly, 
And, sir, they caught the villain sure as death. 

Reed. 

And now he'll blow on you and then you'll see 
The folly of the plan. I begged you, sir, 
To give the matter up ; you know I told 
You of the danger you would sure incur. 

Capt. W. 

What shall be done? 'Twill never do for me 
To fly the city ; this would certainly 
Condemn me in the sight of all. I do 
Believe the wretch is with the devil leagued 
Or has a life that's charmed. But here, what's that ? 
(The Prisoner escaped approaches stealthily.) 

Capt. W. 

Who comes, quick speak the word, a friend or foe? 



61 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Prisoner. 

A friend ; I just now overcame the guard 
And made escape, and come to tell you all. 

Meed. 

Now, by old Jones, what luck ? Now tell us quick ; 
Pray tell us how you left affairs, and how 
You unsuccessful were, and how also 
You made escape? 

Prisoner. Why, sir, by accident 

It was they captured me; just happened, sir, 

That just as I had fired the shots there passed 

An officer, the Chief of Police, 

And on suspicion he arrested me. 

I warmly pleaded innocence, and would 

Have surely gotten off, for I did have, 

You recollect, and from the General 

Himself, the passport which he recognized, 

But there was there a fool — you understand, 

A jester he is called — and he against 

Me testified ; for I with him had met 

A little while before and he did tell 

Them all about the conference we had ; 

In such a manner he described the scene 

That they could nothing do but think that I 

Was guilty of the crime. It was indeed 

The testimony of the fool that made 

Them keep me fast. The fellow plays the fool, 

Is called a fool, but not a fool is he ; 

To him I owe my capture there to-night. 

Peed. 

But pray explain how your escape you made. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 65 

Prisoner. 

They took me to the jail and placed a guard 
To watch, and while his back was turned to me 
I struck him such a blow upon the head 
He fell insensible, and then I fled for life. 

Capt. W. 

But did you murder him ? 

Prisoner. I did not stay 

To see, but I suppose he's up by now. 

Peed. 

And did they recognize or e'en suspect you, sir ? 

Prisoner. Ah no ; but they tried to do it, 

And Arnold quizz'd me close ; so did the Judge. 

Wharton. 

Fresh courage ; up and thank our lucky star. 
You need not long recite the tale, we know 
It all, and will not now stop to condemn. 
But did you whisper aught whereby they'd get 
Us in a trap ? 

Prisoner. I did not, sir, one word ; 

Nor would I, sir, if they had stretched my neck. 

Wharton. 

Bravo ! Hurrah for thee. I'll make it right ; 
You shall not lose, sir, your reward, although 
You failed to carry out the scheme. 

Prisoner. But, sir, 

Right there in Shippen's house before them all 
They kept me questions answering, and, sir, 
They searched and took from me all that I had, 



66 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

And there among my papers I did have 

The note you wrote where you the promise made 

To fee me for the deed, and liberally — 

I mean reward. 

Capt. W. The devil ! You don't say 

TheyVe'got that note I wrote to you ! Oh, fates ! 
The die is cast; I'm gone ; I am disgraced ; 
They'll break our necks as sure as there's a hell. 

Heed. 

Don't say the word ; it makes me shudder, sir. 

Capt. W. 

But, Reed, by jove I tell you that we're gone ; 
Quick tell me what is best to do ; I swear 
I am undone, my brain does reel, my wits 
Are gone, I'm panic-struck ; pray tell me what 
We now can do ? The hounds upon our track 
Will soon be yelping, and then we are gone ! 

Heed. 

I have a cellar, sir, beneath my house, 

A very dungeon though and dark as night, 

You and your man had better there retreat, 

And, thus secure, await developments ; 

And there I can with you communicate 

And let you know how things do shape themselves. 

Meanwhile a letter you must leave with me 

That shall explain your absence from the town. 

Capt. W. 

And are you sure that there we will be safe ? 
Does no one know concerning this retreat? 
(Suddenly voices are heard. Police are on the scout.) 



Benedict Arnold. 67 

Reed. 

Now, by the fates they come ; yes, listen closer, 
And don't you hear their very whisperings? 
Upon my soul they're coming to this spot ! 
Drop down behind the bridge and there lie low ; 
I'll go and meet them in the way and will 
Endeavor to delude them in the search. 
{Goes and meets them, armed guards, and salutes.) 
Heigh, sirs, and what do you this time of night 
Trespassing here upon my private grounds ? 

I Capt. of Guard. 

We are in search, sir, for a criminal, 
And he was seen to pass this way, to come 
Into the yard below, and to this spot 
Directed he his steps, and stealthily. 

Reed. 

But, sir, I've spent the evening here alone ; 
For hours here I've been, and sure I would 
Have seen or heard had any one presumed 
To here intrude. You must mistaken be. 

Another pursuer. 

No, sir, we are mistaken not ; I saw 
The man here come, and more, I thought I saw 
Him come near you. Besides, I also saw 
Another man, sir, in your company. 

Reed. 

You seem to intimate that possibly 
Accomplice I might be and here would hide 
The villain in my yard ; you certainly 



68 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Are not aware to whom you speak. Be gone ! 
And quickly, sir, or else I'll have you make 
An answer for this gross insult you give. 

The Guard. 

It matters not if you are President 
Of Council, sir ; you have no right to make 
Us leave off searching for the prisoner, sir, 
Who did, I know, into this garden come. 

Copt, of Guard. 

We go, but with authority return 

To search your premises, and woe unto 

The harborer of villains, murderers ! 

( They leave. After a while Heed goes to the hedge and whis- 
pers. They gently get up, go into the house and cellar. 
They have hardly gotten secreted before there comes in 
haste a company of guards. Enter the guard and 
police, banging at the door demanding entrance?) 

Reed. 

Who's there thus battering down my door, and can't 
You wait until I know your mission here ? 

Voices. 

We here demand admittance to your house ; 
We've come to search your place. Just now were seen 
Two men, beside yourself, to enter here 
And we have come to see who they may be. 

Heed, (on the inside). 

Who dares to say he saw two men come here 
With me into the house ? 



BENEDICT ABNOLD. 69 

Voice, (on the outside). Ah, sir, you did 

Not know you were watched ; you thought indeed 
That all the guard had gone ; but, sir, we saw 
You go into the hedge, we saw the men 
Accomp'ny you into the house, and now 
You must admit or else we'll force our way. 

Reed. 

Break down the door and he that first appears 
Within shall pay the forfeit with his life. 
I open not my house to such demands, 
And with my life I will defend my house. 

{Outside voices shouHng, begin to break the door, shooting 
begins, terrible confusion, curtain drops and end Act III.) • 






ACT IV— Scene I. 



(At the Jail. Judge S. and Officers. Jail Iveepcr. The 
unknown prisoner chained- Capt. W. in a chair. 

Judge S. } (to Jailer). 

And will you grant to me the privilege 
Of speaking to the prisoner ? 

Jailer. The privilege 

You have of speaking to the prisoner. 

Judge $., (speaking to Wharton). 

I certainly am surprised and deeply do 
Regret, dear Captain, thus to know the facts. 



70 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Capt. W. 

I do appreciate your kindness, Judge, 
And if you, sir, will help me in this case, 
And pledge your friendship and sympathy, I can 
And will be vindicated perfectly. 

Judge S. 

Most willingly I pledge my sympathy, 
And all that I can do I will perform. 
What is it specially you'd ask of me ? 

Capt. W. 

This way a step ; a secret, sir, I have 
And you and he alone must ever know 
"What now I shall reveal. Ah, sir, it would, 
If known, create commotion terrible ; 
The very dead 'twould startle in their graves. 
I have a paper here, and how I came 
By it you need not now inquire. Enough, 
I have the paper here that indicates 
Beyond all doubt, sir, Arnold's treachery, 
His- plot or trade with Clinton to betray 
His country, yea, to put the enemy 
In sure possession of the field. Indeed 
The plan specific here is named, and more, 
The time appointed and the place is set 
For meeting with a spy and then and there 
Arrange the matters perfectly. Now, sir, 
The point is clear ; let Arnold understand 
I have the documents, and then if he 
Will so arrange that all this business shall 
Be ended honorably for me, then, sir, 
We'll play at even, and I too will swear 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 71 

To never breathe the plot that would insure 
His deep disgrace, nay more, his death ; 
And I should guess be values life o'er much. 

Judge S. 

Oh, how am I to be connected with 

The plot? It is a mobt infernal scheme 

And will I not a traitor be unto 

My country, honor, conscience, and my God ? 

Capt. W. 

He is the husband of your daughter, sir, 

(Aside.) 
The devil take the \vret3h, and certainly 
You can be most ignorant of all 
Details ; you need not know the plan proposed. 

Judge S. (to himself, but aloud). 

But oh, to try to ease my conscience thus ; 
To be a traitor, villain, all that's low T 
And mean, disgraceful, and contemptible! 
Oh, had my daughter ne'er been born or died 
In childish innocence ! But still I love 
My daughter, and she is all on earth to me ! 
What shall I do, oh what ! guiding star 
Of destiny beam down upon my way, 
Enlighten, cheer the dark benighted path ! 

Copt. W. 

Remember, sir, 'twould but a moment take, 
The twinkling of an eye, to start the fire ; 
One whisper breathed, and, like the fatal spark 
Let fall into the magazine, there'd be 
An earth-quake terrible ; foundations strong 



72 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Would be upturned ; the very pillars of 

The government would scarce withstand the shock. 

But go and tell him all — he'll understand. 

Judge S. 

I go ; but feel like one who's walking in 

His sleep. Oh, would to Heav'n it was a dream ! 

(The Judge goes to Arnold's. Meed enters, meeting the 
Judge. Reed has his arm in a sling and a plaster on 
his face.) 

Meed (to the Judge). 

And you have heard about the business, Judge, 
And how the villains stormed my house by force 
And battered down my doors and sacked my house. 

Judge S. 

But what is this I see ? It seems that you 
Have also met with injury, and are 
You wounded seriously ? 

Reed. Why, sir, I thought 

The devils sure would take my life ; they thought 
Perhaps they'd laid me out for good, and that 
To-day they'd go unto my funeral ; 
But now I am almost myself again, 
A few small bruises and a broken arm. 
But here I came the Captain now to see. 

(Goes to the Captain, who salutes him.) 

Capt. W. 

Am glad to see you, Beed, and gladder still 
To find you on this side the stream ; I thought 
When last I saw you lying on the floor 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 73 

We'd parted company before the time. 

I thank the fates that I escaped last night ; 

They came near getting me just at the door. 

Heed. - 

And what does Shippen have to say to-day ? 

Does he believe the false reports about 

Your being mixed up with that strange affair ? 

Capt. W. 

I don't suppose he doe3, and now he's gone 
To visit Arnold and obtain his help. 

Meed. 

To visit Arnold ! to obtain his help ? 
You must be mad ! Old Arnold would rejoice 
To hear that you were chunking fire in hell ; 
He'd give his fortune all if you were dead. 

Capt. W. 

But not his neck ; and I have sent a bit 
Of news to him that will, without a doubt 
I'm sure, make him to open wide his eyes. 
And mark how swift a messenger will come 
With propositions that shall satisfy 
All parties to the play. I warrant you 
That now there comes the bearer of the news. 

(Judge S. enters.) 
I told you so ; it is the judge himself; 
And, mark you, sir, he has the document 
That will explain, and fully so, the point. 

Judge /S. 

Here, sir, I bring the answer Arnold sends; 



74 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

To him. in person he desires you come, 

So that the plan proposed can be arranged. 

Capt. W. 

But what about this prisoner here I pray ? 

Judge S. 

All that can be arranged, and even now 
I come prepared, and have the documents 
To set him free ; you know the statute of 
Our State provision makes to this effect: 
In matters criminal, murder of course 
Excepted from the list, the party injured, 
Who isthe plaintiff proper, can dismiss 
The suit ; and we a nolle prosequi 
Have ordered, so that both of you are free. 

Capt. W. 

This beats the writ of habeas corpus, sir ; 
A perfect vindication now indeed. 
To Arnold now let us proceed and have 
The declaration of our innocence 
Proclaimed aloud ; in thunder-tones aloud 
Let it be voiced forth, and all the world 
Shall hear and know the truth that we are free 
And of the charges made are innocent ! 

( The shout of bravo ! End of Scene I, Act IV.) 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 75 

ACT IV— Scene II. 

( West Point. Arnold alone late in the afternoon. Some 
one knocks at the door.) 

Arnold (to servant). 

Some one admittance seeks ; show him in here. 

( To himself.) 
It can't be, certainly, that they've returned 
Already, and before the night has come ! 

(General LaFayette enters.) 
Why, General, my dear, and is it you? 
Pray come and spend a time. I do rejoice 
That here an opportunity we'll have 
To privately confer on matters of 
Importance to the State, and would that I 
Had known before of your arrival here ; 
We would have been more thoroughly prepared 
To entertain more worthily our host. 

Gen. LaFayette. 

Pray now you will make me no apology ; 

Indeed apology should come from me 

Who thus intrude so unexpectedly ; 

But just a little time I shall remain, 

As matters urgent wait my presence soon 

In Philadelphia, and here I came 

To give to you direction how to guard 

West Point, the most important garrison 

We have ; the fort must be securely held, 

For if the enemy but understood 

How weak we really are they'd capture it. 



76 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

To you I'm sent from Gen'ral Washington, 
"Who seems to have all confidence in you. 

Arnold. 

I am persuaded, General, that we 

Shall surely hold the fort. . I have received 

The plan of operation and the map 

You sent. It gives in full all points we need. 

Gen. LaFayette. 

And more, I have a plan for future schemes, 
The disposition to be made of all 
The forces of the campaign of this fall ; 
And now you'll understand most perfectly 
The plan proposed, so let us drop the theme 
Of war a moment, if no more, and talk 
Of matters more congenial to the man 
Who has so recently been made, of course, 
The happiest man in all the world ; but where 
Is Mrs. Arnold now? I'd like to see 
How she appears in her new sphere, and what 
The kind of soldier's wife she makes, and if 
She caii and does inspire a soldier's heart, 
Or rather makes him sigh to quit the field 
And seek the blissful happiness of home. 

Arnold. 

I'm sorry, General, indeed I am, 

That you have come when she is not at home ; 

She loves the open air, and nothing more 

Than horse-back riding in the early morn 

And afternoon, and now she's on the road. 

A cousin from the city is with her, 

Who also much enjoys our country scenes. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. V 

Gen. LaFayeite. 

Ah, then, it must have been most certainly 

That I saw them as I was coming here ; 

I passed a couple riding up the way 

And guess 'twas they. I could not see her face. 

(Looking at his watch.) 
But I must go ; the night will overtake 
Me now if I should fail to make great haste. 
So farewell, sir, and may you never be 
Less happy in your life of pleasant bliss 
And not less fortunate than you have been. 
Remember all our plans about the fort ; 
Perhaps again I'll see your wife upon 
The road. I'd like to meet her cousin too. 
Adieu, my Arnold, 'till we meet ! 

Arnold. Adieu ! 

(General LaFayctte leaves. Arnold nervous.) 

Arnold. 

Now, what if he this very afternoon 

Should meet the couple on the road and they 

By accident should let the secret out? 

Ah, if he knew 'twere Andre with my wife, 

And could his mind the secret thought detect ! 

If suddenly he should upon them come 

Will they have wit enough to help them out ? 

About that cousin-business should he enquire — 

And sure as life we had it not this way 

That he her cousin was to be — but then 

To luck I'll trust ; it never yet has failed. 

(Mrs. Arnold and Andre ride up. It is dee]) twilight. 
They come into the house.) 



78 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

0, husband dear, the narrow risk we ran 
Did make my heart palpitate with dread, 
And hardly yet I'm over with the fright. 

Arnold. 

And what, dear Maggie, was the risk you ran ? 
You show the symptoms plainly still of fright. 

Andre. 

Why, sir, we met LaFayette face to face, 

Yes face to face, and scarce a mile from here ; 

He recognized your wife, though she was veiled, 

And reined his steed unto a " front face" halt, 

And so it seemed to us, indeed he was, 

Sir, over curious to ascertain 

From whence we came, how fast we rode, and who 

I was ; yea, many questions did he ask 

That brought the tell-tale blushes to our cheeks. 

Arnold {jestingly). 

Ha! ha! Indeed it seemed to you of course! 

The guilty wretch afflicted always is 

With vain suspicions, and his conscience makes 

The villain shun his very shadow in 

Alarm and start to hear his own heart beat. 

Andre. 

Quite complimentary, I sure must say, 
To place me in the villain's stead and put 
An evil conscience in my soul ; that makes 
Me out a coward base, contemptible. 
My mission then deserves for me disgrace, 
And had it thus appeared before I came, 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



79 






Sir, not a step would I have come, and you'd 
Have been compelled some other plan or way 
To have devised to carry out the scheme. 

Arnold. 

Oh no, my Andre, you mistake me quite. 

I simply did an illustration use 

To show how varied our experience is, 

How sometimes we are thus, at other times 

The very opposite. You understand 

I did no personal reflection cast, 

For here's my wife the central figure in 

The play. How could I, therefore, dare pronounce 

It mean or low, or think it was contemptible ? 



Mrs. Arnold. 

It would have done you good if you had seen 
How dextrously we played our parts and how 
That Major Andre did succeed. The role 
Of cousin he did play, and perfectly 
He acted out his part. 

Arnold. Ah, good it is. 

This very thing I told the General 
That you, my dear, was riding out and w r ith 

I Your cousin from the city, so it hits 
Exactly all around ; the Gods are pleased 
And do approve our plans ; let's to work 
And here and now the plans complete. 



Mrs. Arnold. 

But ere you here become engaged upon 
Your work let's have our luncheon over, then 
The better will you be prepared the task 



80 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

To undertake ; I'll have the servant now 
To bring refreshments here, and as you have 
But little time and much to say, you can 
Discuss at lunch the points you wish to make. 

Andre. 

Ah, this is certainly the very plan, 

And while we sip our tea we can dispose 

Of much that's on our minds. And then how free 

Our spirits flow around the festive board. 

'Tis there our talk is bold, with tongues untied, 

And wit is sharpened to the razor's edge. 

To you, dear madame, do we vote our thanks 

For these suggestions valuable. But then 

We need not be surprised ; a woman does 

It take to quick conceive the proper plan. 

Arnold. 

Then order brought, and quickly too, the lunch ; 
Let's eat and drink and merry will we be 
Though e'en the morrow should some sorrow send 
Or disappointment bitter to our hearts. 
{Mrs. Arnold retires.) 

Andre. 

You seem, dear Arnold, much inclined to take 

The sad and melancholy view of things ; 

It does appear in all you say and do. 

You seem bewitched with apprehensions dark 

And terrible ; the smile upon your face 

Belies your looks ; uneasily it rests 

Upon your brow, and shadows come and go 

Like passing clouds are wont to cast ! Cheer up 

And let the past now bo forgot, yea lost 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

In dreams of future honors and rewards, 
That you shall sure enjoy to the full. 

Arnold. 

Ah, Andre, you can trust me to the end, 
And sure the plan shall executed be 
So far as lies with me, for I am now 
Committed to the task and will not shrink. 

(Mrs. Arnold returns.) 
But Maggie there can testify that I 
Have trembled, hesitated on the brink ; 
But now the Rubicon is passed, the leap's 
A fearful one indeed ; but, sir, you have 
Not me to praise for here's the inspiration, 
Nay more, the leading actor in the play. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

"lis true, I am to blame ; if blame there'll be 

Pronounced I'll bear it all ; for more than twice 

Or thrice he seemed to shrink, and once indeed 

Was nearly ready to withdraw and lose 

The golden opportunity. But still 

He hearkened to my strong appeals and said 

That for my sake there's nothing he'd refuse 

To do, and based his reason for the deed 

Upon his love for me and his fidelity. 

I therefore did accept it thus — a proof 

Of his devotion true. 

Arnold. And mark ye what 

I then declared when you your point had gained, 
That should there follow ill or should it be 
That it might so turn out that England should 



81 



82 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Not win the fight, and Independence be 

By all the colonies obtained, we should 

Be held in deep disgrace ! And your reply 

Was strong, " Let fall on me the deep disgrace 

You so much dread — the scare-crow of your soul! 

Mrs. Arnold. 

Here comes the lunch ; but I must tell you now, 
Dear Major, how he treated me — just as 
Old Adam did — as all men do — he laid 
Upon his wife the blame ; you hear him now. 
( The lunch is spread.) 

Arnold. 

Well, let us drop the past and here direct 
Attention to the tea ; but here before 
We do proceed to eat, our appetites 
Must have an edge, therefore a little sip 
Of brandy is required. This brandy, sir, 
Is excellent ; by all pronounced the best. 
It was from Paris lately brought, and as 
A present. Lafayette to Washington 
Did bring it, sir, and Washington with me 
Divided liberally. So let's a toast, 
A health to this our undertaking. 

(Arnold here fills three glasses.) 

Andri. 

Excuse me, Gen'ral, if you please ; I'll take 
A glass of water, sir, instead, and then 
Will certainly the health propose. 

Arnold. And do 

You now in truth refuse this royal draught? 
You never put to lips a better drink. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 83 

Andre. 

I never put unto my lips a drink 
Of anything that stupefies niy brain ; 
And certainly to-night we need to have 
Our brains all clear to execute our task. 

Arnold. 

And what is this you say— you never drink ? 

And certainly it cannot be that you, 

Dear Andre, are thus ignorant of all 

The raptures of the bowl, its quick delights, 

Its ecstacies, its magic bliss, the thrill 

Of mind that's indescribable ? 'Tis thus 

That thou couldst drown all care, all pain forget, 

And nurse the sweetest dreams, and fondly gaze 

On brightest scenes and pictures loveliest 

Blest fancy paints for thee ; mind-ravishing 

Are they in loveliness unutterable. 

Andre. 

And, sir, most certainly I must confess 
My ignorance ; and if the picture is 
As you have painted it, it is not strange 
That there be devotees at Bacchus' shrine. 
But I prefer in blissful ignorance 
To be and to remain, for there must be 
Assuredly, according to all law, 
Another side unto the picture, sir — 
The sure reaction that must follow with 
The awful sinking down of spirits ruined. 

{Fool comes in.) 
Fool. 

That's what I call philosophy ; and sure 

He talks just like the feller who's been there. 



84 BENEDICT ARNOED. 

He seems to understand that we must take 

The spirits down to keep the spirits up ; 

In fact, 'tis always spirits, up or down, 

And spirits all the time innumer'ble ; 

About a thousand after me last night, 

And here's the truth : they're worse to fight than all 

The crew of red-coat Britishers, and there's 

To every pint a thousand, more or less, 

According to the stamp upon the cask. 

Arnold. 

All right, then, Andre and Sir Stultus here 
Of course will leave it all for me ; I'll risk 
The spirits I may find here in this pint. 

Fool. 

And as you did on Sunday night the last, 
You'll wish the parson with his prayers to come 
So you can take the oath, and swear 
To total abstinence forevermore. 

Andre. 

Now, Gen'ral give it up, confess you're beat, 
And let Sir Stultus name the prize he's won. 
But ho ! 'tis getting on into the night, 
And we have had enjoyment so great 
That we the business have forgot ;' and now 
Your pardon beg, but sure we ought to be 
Engaged in matters, I admit 
Not half so pleasant, but the pleasure we 
Another time will quaff unto the brim. 

{Exit Fool.) 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 85 

Arnold. 

And now the room is cleared, so we'll proceed 
To business. 

(To Mrs. Arnold.) 
And Lave all retired, my dear? 

Andre. 

And are you sure no itching ear's about, 
No prying eye? This is enchanted ground ; 
My heart with apprehensions serious 
Seems to be filled. 

Arnold. 

Your heart's untrained ; you need 
A drilling in the school of strategy. 
So we'll begin to-night, and I will teach 
You your first lesson in the art ; and apt 
You'll be, I'm sure. 

(To his wife.) 
And, Maggie, you perhaps 
Had best retire ; you need the rest, and it 
Will be no pleasure here for you to sit 
And hear of phrases military, plans 
In soldier phraseology described. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

Then, gentlemen, I bid you, sirs, good night, 
And may the lucky star beam on your way. 
(She retires ) 

Arnold (takes out map). 

Here, Andre, is the map of all the plans 
Proposed, and, furthermore, a map that shows 



86 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

The key — position of the point — and how 
You can arrange to land your forces safe 
From all attack, and in possession you 
Can be of all the field ere they will learn 
That there's a single soldier on the ground. 

(Here shows the map, describes pointedly, etc.) 

Andre, 

Now, Arnold, here's the difficulty in 

The way : the papers I of course must have 

To give to Clinton in New York ; now how 

Am I to safe secure them on myself 

In case I might arrested be and searched ? 

Arnold. 

Of course you'll have the pass, and by me signed 
Officially, and you can pass the lines 
Without the least concern of capture, sir. 
The pass I give to you, old Washington 
Himself is bound at once to show respect. 

Andre. 

Then you'll advise me certainly to go 
This very night ; delay is dangerous. 

Arnold. 

But here I'll write and stamp officially 
The pass ; 'twill carry you, sir, anywhere 
Except to Heaven — but you are not now 
Upon a journey there. 

Andre. I trust I'm not 

Upon my way below. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 87 

Arnold. You're going South, 

I think, and that is what we call below. 
But here's the pass ; and now the documents 
You put into your boots, upon the soles, 
And even should you get entrapped, you can 
Quite easy, I presume, there safe secure 
The map ; the pass be careful not to lose. 

Andre. 

Now, sir, the moon is out, and I should be 
Upon my way ; 'twill give me light to see 
Sufficiently to keep the proper road. 

Arnold. 

A portion of the line is difficult 

To find, but I will go and pilot you 

Until we strike the thoroughfare that leads 

Directly South, a dozen miles or so ; 

Then you will have no trouble in the least 

To make your way, and by to-morrow night 

You'll be beyond the lines, on neutral ground. 

Andre. 

I am indeed most grateful, sir, for this ; 
I do confess securer I will feel. 

Arnold. 

Then we will go. I will not wake my wife, 

For by the break of morn I will return, 

And she will not the wiser be about 

Affairs we thus have shaped. Come, now we go ; 

Our steeds are royal blood, the distance will 

Appear but brief — as all true wit must be. 

{They retire through the hall into the yard. End of Scene 
II of Act IV.) 



88 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



ACT IV— Scene III. 

(Next morning. Arnold has not returned. Mrs. Arnold, 
alarmed, comes into the room where they had the con' 
ference.) 

Mrs. Arnold. 

And sure enough they're* gone ; 'tis strange indeed 
That he should thus take leave, inform me not 
Of his intention to be gone. And knew 
He not last night that he would absent be ? 
Perhaps he wished not to disturb me in 
My sleep ; 'twas kindness after all in him. 

happy is the wife, and doubly blest, 
Who has a husband thus, so kind, so dear, 
And for her sake, ah, anything will do. 
'Twas this dear quality of heart that made 
Him yield to me in this heroic work. 

But I will call a servant here. Perhaps 
He left some word. 

(She rings the hell. Enter Fool.) 
And when your master left 
Last night, did he a message leave for me ? 

Fool. 

Not any message did he leave with me. 

He thought that no one saw or knew he left. 

1 heard him tell the man he would return 
Before the morn, and would not you disturb. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

He left, you say, with him ? What time of night? 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 89 

Fool 

'Twas after midnight long ; and how I came 
To know, I had not closed my eyes in sleep, 
And as they came into the hall, upon 
Their way that through the garden led, I heard 
This part of their low whispered conversation. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

But this is worse far than I had dreamed, 
For he has failed to keep his promise ; 
And sure I fear it is some accident 
Unlooked for has occurred. Oh, why should he 
Thus leave and not make known to me his plan ? 
He has not even left a note for me 
Explaining why he goes so suddenly. 
My soul with apprehensions dire is filled ; 
And oh, how terrible is this suspense ! 

Fool. 

If, mistress dear, your conscience is at ease, 

And nought there is you'd blush for all the world 

To know connected with this business, 

Then why not be content ? 'Tis virtue's boast 

And privilege to nothing fear but God. 

But did you not this morning hear the loud 

Beport of cannon and artillery? 

Perhaps the British have the fort attacked, 

And there is where the Gen'ral's detained, 

For like the war-horse does he sniff the scent 

Of battle from afar — to him a luxury. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

What can it mean, this morning's cannonade? 
The plan has failed, I fear. Agreement was 



90 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

That no attack be made upon the fort 

Until the landing secretly of all 

The forces near the point effected be ; 

And full three days or more it will require 

To consummate the plan. Oh, surely there 

Has something terrible occurred to-day. 

But, Stultus, can't you go and ascertain 

For me the news ? The. swiftest-footed steed 

You take and fly as if for very life 

Towards the fort, and open wide sure keep 

Your eyes, your ears, and bring me all the news. 

Fool. 

Ah, yes, I'll fly and swifter than the wind ; 
But ha — ha — ha ! a fool you choose to send 
On such a mission as this. Seems to me 
'Twould take a man with brains ; but here I go. 

(Fool leaves the stage in a hurry.) 

Mrs. Arnold. 

How slow the time will drag until I hear 
The news. Oh, how to spend the weary hours, 
To make the time pass quickly by ; would that 
In sweet unconsciousness of everything — 

{Fool enters hurriedly) 

Fool. 

Indeed 'tis true a bloody battle's been, 

And there are wild reports of many killed,' 

And seven of the officers. Among 

The slain was Captain Wharton, who was brought 

Upon a litter by our very door. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 91 

Mrs. Arnold. 

But what about the General, ray dear, 
Dear husband, who I am afraid is killed ? 

Fool. 

He was not in the fight, and no one knows 
His whereabouts ; concerning him I heard 
Much talk indeed. 

Mrs. Arnold. And pray what did you hear? 

Fool. 

A letter on the Captain who was killed 
Was found ; and they did say the General 
Was mixed up with some strange affair about 
A British Major Andre, I believe. 

Mrs. Arnold (agitated). 

Oh, that they would come ! How shall I live 
Until I see again my husband dear ? 

Fool. 

I hear some one right now, and Arnold sure ; 
It is his walk. 

(Arnold enters.) 

Mrs. Arnold. Oh w T here, and is it he ? 

It is, it is my husband sure enough. 
Oh, dear, the joy you have brought to me 
By this return ! My heart was full of fears. 

Arnold. 

A thousand pardons do I beg, my dear. 
Sweet, darling wife, for leaving you ; but we 
Will speak of that some other time than now. 
Indeed, a moment only have I now 



92 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

To claim your smiles, the sunshine of my heart, 

For I am quickly ordered to the front. 

A battle is expected hourly now, 

And on the field to day I sure must be. 

{Enter messenger with despatch.) 

Here comes a courier now, perhaps with news ; 
He comes for me to go immediately. 

{He reads.) 

And sure it is a note from Washington, 
But not to leave as I did think. He will 
Himself and staff be with us here to-day. 
{Enter Hamilton and McHenry.) 
Arnold. 

And here is Hamilton indeed ! Well, Gen'ral, 
Most happy, sir, to welcome you I am, 
And welcome to your friend, who I believe 
Is aid- de-camp to Marquis LaFayette ? 

{Enter Mrs. Arnold, who is introduced to Maj. McHenry.) 

And Major, here's my wife, and, Maggie this 
Is Major Henry with the Mac annexed, 
In deference to the Scotch ; he's aid-de-camp 
To Marquis Lafayette. Now, gentlemen, 
Remember please your welcome here, and be 
At perfect ease. 



Hamilton. Both Gen'rals Washington 

And Knox will also in an hour or so 
Be with us here. Our first intention was 
To breakfast with you here to-day, and spend 
A while in perfecting our future plans. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 93 

I 

Mrs. Arnold. 

Then certainly our breakfast we'll defer 
Until they come. 

McHcnry. 

But Washington sent word that you should not 
Await their coming, for it might be late, 
And wished no special preparations made 
On their behalf. 

Arnold. So then we will proceed. 

I know r you don't object ; a soldier is 
Not slow in business of this character. 

Hamilton. 

I think you rightly understand the case, 
For we have eaten naught since yesterday. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

Then, gentlemen, you're just in time ; we were 
Just going to our meal when you arrived. 

Arnold. 

Then come right in ; all things are now prepared. 
{All sit at table.) 

Hamilton. 

The breakfast's not the chief attraction here, 
So Washington allowed ; he made remark 
That all the young men of the army came 
To see especially the reigning queen, 
Whose beauty was the fascination here. 

Mrs. Arnold. 

And truly complimentary he was, 

For he is not accustomed thus to speak. 



94 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

{Messenger comes with letter. Arnold reads, excuses him- 
self, and speaks to his wife aside.) 

Arnold. 

Well, gentlemen, I'm sorry to announce 
That I must now be off. A matter, sirs, 
Most serious demands this sudden leave ; 
And please excuse my wife a moment too ; 
She'll soon return. Be hurried not, but eat. 
(Mr and Mrs. Arnold retire.) 

Hamilton. 

Well, Major, soon the reinforcements will 
Be here — the Marquis, Washington and Knox — 
And if they prove successful as we have 
In this attack on Mrs. Arnold's meat, 
There'll have to be another breakfast cooked ; 
The commissary sure will have to bring, 
A fresh supply from Philadelphia, 
For Arnold's home, headquarters is for all. 
(LaFayette enters, with letter in hand?) 

LaFayette. 

And where is Gen'ral Arnold, gentlemen ? 

Hamilton. 

He suddenly was called away just now. 
A messenger in flying haste did bring 
A letter that compelled his instant leave. 

LaFayette. 

Whom can we trust? Here's information terrible ! 
Why, Arnold is a traitor, sirs, and he 
Is now escaping in his flight. 'Twas this, 
The capture of the spy, he ascertained 






BENEDICT ARNOLD. 95 

That made him break away so hastily. 

But where's your hostess, Mrs. Arnold, gone ? 

Servant. 

She's lying like she's dead now in her room ; 
She dropped upon the floor just as he left. 

La Fayette. 

Let's see her quick ; perhaps she needs our help. 
Go, Hamilton, and the Sergeant with you. 
(They go, and return directly.) 

Hamilton. 

She had so terrible a shock that she 
Did faint, but she appears much better now. 
She said her husband there confessed the crime. 
She wants to go unto her father's home 
Immediately, in Philadelphia. 

(Courier enters with message for La Fayette, who reads and 

says.) 
LaFayette. 

No longer here delay, but every man 

Must now be at his post and ready for 

Emergencies. The enemy will strike 

A heavy blow ; the plan is here revealed. 

The only thing that saved us sure defeat 

Was Major Andre's capture by the scouts, 

Three raw militiamen. 

Hamilton. Three cheers, hurrah ! 

Three cheers, and for the raw militiamen. 

LaFayette. 

But on towards the river, and we'll try 



96 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

To capture Arnold ere he makes escape 

Unto the enemy. No time to wait. 

A thousand pounds reward for Arnold's head, 

Or Andre in exchange if he escapes, 

So Gen'ral Washington has order given. 

We go, and Arnold's capture is the word ; 

Hence, forward now immediately proceed. 

(End of Act IV.) 



ACT V— Scene I. 



(The officer announcing in jail the "death-warrant" to 
Andre. Gen. Hamilton enters with officer.) 

Officer. 

And, sir, I come upon my mission now, 
'Tis to my heart most painful — 'tis indeed. 

Andre. 

I understand — it is my death warrant 
That you have come to formally announce. 

Officer. 

As thou hast said ; it is the sentence of 
The court — the verdict they have now proclaimed. 
One hour hence you die, and by the mode 
Prescribed by law in case of criminals. 

Andre 1 . 

Great heavens i has it come to this, that like 
A dog I shall be hung ! And pray, why will 
They not, sir, like a soldier let me die ? 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 



97 



But oh, the barb'rous mode of hanging, sir, 
The yile disgrace of dying by the rope, 
Does send a creeping terror through my soul. 

Hamilton. 

My brave and noble friend, it almost breaks 
My heart to see you die, and there is not 
In all the army one but would now give 
To you your liberty. Great Washington 
Has wept in sympathy ; all hearts are sad. 
'Tis Arnold, not yourself, who is disgraced, 
And now deserves your present bitter fate. 

Andre. 

I thank you truly, sir, most noble friend, 

For these kind, cheering words of sympathy. 

It is a sad, a strange existence that 

We spend on earth. Who could or would have thought 

That thus affairs would shape themselves ? But then 

The way is made, and I must walk therein. 

Most noble Hamilton, I thank you much 

For condescending here to visit me 

In company with this dear officer, 

Whose tender heart doth beat in sympathy. 

Now to you, sir, as to a brother man, 

I make appeal, that you will see, when I 

Am dead, that no aspersions shall be cast 

Upon my memory ; but that the world 

Shall understand I was no spy, but that 

I came upon an errand which I thought 

Was wholly different ; for I was not 

To meet with Arnold save on neutral ground 

And under flag of truce. But fate, it seems, 



98 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Had ordered otherwise, and here am I 
Condemned a spy, and as a spy to die ! 
Ah, sir, I did so hope that Washington 
(So noble is he called) would sure relent, 
And for my mother's and for my sister's sake, 
And for another s too, would save me from 
The cruel, barb'rous death of hanging, sir, 

(Hamilton and. guard weep.) 
How like a dream ! like walking in my sleep I 
I shrink not back in awful dread of death ; 
For to my country I have pledged my life, 
And so to-day the promise is fulfilled. 
But oh, to die as if a criminal ! 
(Here he draws from his pocket a handkerchief.) 
This bandage for my eyes please let it be, 
This handkerchief my mother sent, and by 
My only sister made ; see here's her name 
Conjoined with mine in this dear monogram ; 
And let it be preserved when I am dead — 
Yea, wrapped up with my body, which you will 
Of course be kind enough to send to them, 
And tell them that I died, as all brave men, 
Without a fear, and for my native land. 

(Gives him a picture.) 
And this, let it in death rest on my heart,'" 

(Officer and Hamilton weep.) 
Weep not for me, but rather do rejoice 
That by this death I now can prove my love 
To dear old England — land that gave me birth. 
But let's away unto the place where I 
Must die ; impatiently I wait the hour. 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 99 

( A ddressing Hamilton.) 
Here, take my arm and bear me company, 
Dear friend, unto the place of my reward, 
And keep with me the step, and soldier-like, 
Wiiose march is forward — on to victory. 

{Exit Hamilton and Andrd arm-in-arm.) 



ACT V— Scene III. 



{London. Fifteen years elapsed. Arnold, in poverty and 
disgrace, is dying in an obscure garret. His only 
daughter, now a young lady, with him, and one of his 
sons by his first wife. Arnold half -reclining on an 
old sofa, muttering secretly ; and as the curtain rises, 
the Priest enters.) 

Arnold {sternly but feebly). 

And who hast sent for thee, thou man of God ? 
"Who bids you in this place to see me die 9 
Or hast thou dropped in here by accident, 
Or sent by some kind angel on thy rounds 
With benedictions, and hath made mistake, 
Not knowing where you are, or whom you see? 

Priest. 

Ah, sir, 'tis not by chance or accident 
That hither have I come, but here I am 
In answer, sir, unto the strong appeal 
And pitiful of one who loves you more 
Than any other thing below the stars ; 



100 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

Of one whose life is with thy life bound up, 
And who has begged kind heaven for your soul — 
It is the bidding of your daughter, sir. 

Arnold. 

Great God ! J You say my daughter bade you here? 

And hath she told to you my history ? 

Ah, man of God, thou knowest not me whom 

You now address. Why,- sir, there's not a man 

In all of England now that would be seen 

Here in my company. Full well I know 

I am the only man in all the world 

That can affirm the awful truth that not 

In all the earth he has or dares to claim 

One single sympathizing, loving friend. 

But never yet, since man began to live, 

Has there another wretch like me been born, 

Except the traitor to his God, the fiend 

Incarnate who did barter off his Lord. 

My soul I've bargained off for cursed gold, 

The love of which consumed my very life, 

And for an empty honor and a place 

High up 'mong men the foremost of the earth, 

To gratify my lust of pride and power, 

And for the sake of one who's now in heav'n. 

Oh, holy man, thou knowest not to whom 

Thou darest talk, or thou wouldst quit the place. 

Priest. 

But, Arnold dear, perhaps I know too well 
The soul-sad story of thy life that's past. 
You failed to recognize me when I came, 
And first I thought to keep you ignorant ; 



BENEDICT ARNOLD. 101 

But knowest thou, dear sir, I am your friend, 

I am the minister you once did love, 

And honor gave in Philadelphia 

When you secured my services upon 

Your marriage to your wife, who's now in heaven. 

Arnold. 

Oh, God ! what tides of sacred memories 
Rise on my soul ! The past so damnable 
Doth rise before my gaze. Servant of God, 
Thy very presence here doth wake the thoughts 
Of hell and set my brain on fire ! Ah, do 
You now suppose there is, or can there be, 
One ray of hope for me, one single star 
To break the gloom that shrouds my very soul ? 
For me to hope, an outcast, sir, from earth, 
From heaven, from everywhere, excepting hell ! 

Priest. 

But wrong thou art for entertaining thoughts 
Like these — they'll drive thee to the very verge 
Of madness, sir ! Then banish from thy mind 
Such gloomy fears and apprehensions dire ; 
Thou hast assuredly by suffering 
Propitiation made, if suffering can 
Atone for crime ; and look for sympathy 
To Heaven's sent Prince of sufferers, 
Who makes for thee and all, a better way, 
To future life of endless blessedness. 

Arnold. 

Ah, gentle sir, the whirlwind now I reap, 

The terrors of my soul unbearable ! 

But, sacred friend, within my secret heart 



102 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

There is a gleam of hope, and heaven knows 
How I have cursed the bitter day ; and there 
May come a quiet after death. But here — 

{Seizing the United States flag that he has with him by his 
couch, he says.) 

My fellow-countryman look, dost thou know 

This flag ? Hast thou not known or understood 

The nature of the love that fills the soul 

Of freemen for our country and her flag, 

The banner that doth wave in victory ? 

Yes, man, I know fall well thou talkest of 

Another banner, and thou callest it 

The banner of the cross, religion, sir. 

Ah, didst thou know this banner is the one 

I first did love, the one for which I fought, 

For which I shed my blood, and freely too 

As ever priest did pour libation on 

The altar of the holy sacrifice. 

But oh, ye gods, look not on me. This flag 

I did forswear, forsake and turn my face 

Against ! Yet heaven knows I love it still, 

And now would die a thousand deaths to prove, 

To my country my love and loyalty. 

I left it in that moment when I gave 

My honor and my soul, my all, for gold. 

Oh, cursed be the hellish greed for gold ! 

My time's at hand, and for a winding-sheet 

This banner of my country now shall be. 

{Enter Miss Arnold.) 

Priest. 

Here comes thy daughter and thy son to speak to thee, 






BENEDICT ARNOLD. 103 

For them I sent in haste ; a little while 
'Twill be and we shall speak no more on earth. 

Arnold. 

My child ! my child ! thy very presence burns 

Like iron hissing hot ; for 'tis the thought 

Of thy disgrace that harrows up my soul. 

The " traitor s child," yes this will be the cry 

In every mouth ; they'll point to her in scorn, 

And shout aloud, " There goes the traitor's child." 

And oh, my darling son, I here commit 

To thee thy sister, and thy father's joy. 

The deep dishonor I bequeath to thee 

By deeds heroic, and in Heaven's name, wipe out. 

It leaves a stain ; if blood could wash it out, 

Thy father now would pour his heart's last drop, 

And pray to live his life of torment over 

To make it sure the damned spot was gone. 

(Seizes his old uniform, the one used when Colonel in the 
American army.} 
See here ! this coat ; there is a stain of blood, 
And here also the British sword did pierce. 
This is the trophy of the victory ; 
This uniform of chivalry I wore 
When I was pure in heart, in honor pure. 

(He puts the coat on and seizes and waves the flag and be- 
comes delirious.) 
Here, priest of God, now help me on with it. 
Once more I feel afresh the tide of life 
Quick bounding in my veins ; once more I feel 
The pulsing thrill that fires the patriot's heart, 
The inspiration of the victory. 



104 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 

I see the foe advance — they charge to death. 
Upon the right and left they press, they come 
In columns three-fold deep, with furious speed. 
Now forward, men ! Remember Bemis heights, 
The bloody day before old Quebec's walls. 
The bulwarks charge ! and hold your steady aim. 
I see they meet ; with bayonets they clash ; 
They falter ! fly ! Now let them have it — Fire ! 

(Arnold staggers, reels, falls and dies. Upon him falls his 
daughter, and beside her his son, who have stood 
amazed before him. Curtain drops.) 



End of the Tragedy. 



/ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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